The King and the Slave: Forbidden Love
by DarkSideCaptive
Summary: AU High King Edmund rules Narnia with a peaceful hand, but after finding out that slavery still continues in the west, he travels, in disguise, to put an end to it, he soon finds his heart a slave to forbidden love and Narnia in chaos. PeterEdmund slash
1. The Meeting

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A/N: PETER AND EDMUND ARE NOT RELATED! Also the language is Latin, and most of the things said in Latin during this story are unimportant, but if you really want to know what they say msg me and I'll send you a translation. Hope you like it

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**Also Edmund's past (since it is different in this story) will be revealed later on! So don't ask about the family ring! It will be revealed if I continue this story.**

_Četri pēc tronī zelta  
Mūsu karali un Queen valdīt  
Defeater no ragana  
Bow leju! Bow leju!  
Valdīt uz visiem laikiem!_

_The room glowed and sang of celebration. Gold garland wove through the hallways, silver vines wrapping around the thick columns of stone. Couples twisted and swayed to the music, a beautiful dance on the marble ground. Dukes gathered around, shyly glancing at the rulers as if silently asking permission to speak to them. Suitors filed into the room, checking their complexions and nervously scrunching their hair as they bowed in front of the magnificent two. _

_The Queen, beautiful in appearance, sat with a golden crown upon a golden throne. She was charming, dark hair cascading down her back in gentle waves. Suitors threw themselves at her feet, asking her permission to court. She denied them with a smile of an angel, and danced with her brother. Queen Susan the Gentle, the High Queen of Narnia._

_Dark in appearance, the king sat on the throne. A golden crown clashed against his coal-colored hair. Haunted eyes held each gaze that dared glancing at him, a secret resting behind. Handsome, wise, and just, the king reigned.. They worshipped him, falling to their knees and bowing their heads in respect. Princesses and duchesses blushed when he looked their way, turning to avoid his intense gaze. High King Edmund the Just, Ruler over all of Narnia._

_They loved their rulers, the defeaters of the Witch. Their song continued, whispering words of prophecy and of blessings. _

_King Edmund, however, was rather confused by these songs. Their voices were beautiful, pleasant to the ears, but he did not enjoy them. He suspects it's because he doesn't understand them. No, not one word. He sighs, mumbling something about how if they were going to sing about him, they could at least sing in English so he could understand them. He frowned again, cursing his lack of knowledge on languages. He didn't even know what language they were speaking._

"_Beautiful, aren't they, my fair king?" _

_He turned to look at who dared to interrupt his important train of thought. _

_A duke, looking to be in his mid-fifties with thick long black hair and a beard that covered a good portion of his face, stood beside him with a goblet of wine in his right hand and another in his left. He offered it the king, who gladly accepted. "The singers, that is."_

"_Yes, beautiful indeed." He hated speaking with such a formal tongue, wasn't he a teenager? "How fair thee, my lord?"_

_The man chuckled gently, turning to catch Peter's eye before sipping from his goblet. "Please do not refer to me as my lord, Your Majesty. I am of a lower title."_

"_That does not grant me permission to treat you as I would a commoner, my lord." He half muttered. Turning his head away, he watched as Susan danced with a young prince, laughing merrily_

"_How goes Narnia?" _

_"Fine, fine. Working on setting up a calendar, so that we may keep track of the years and months. Susan's idea." He smirked, remembering when Susan had first brought it up. _

"_Fine idea, your Majesty. How is thy issue with the slaves going?" He stroked his beard thoughtfully._

"_Slaves? I banned slavery years ago, my lord. There is no slavery in Narnia." He turned to look at the rather confused man, cocking an eyebrow._

"_Then I must have been mistaken." The man whispered. _

"_I'm afraid that you have lost me." _

"_Narnia's borders run beyond River Rush, do they not?" _

"_Yes."_

_"Interesting. Troubling, yet interesting." He mumbled._

_"Speak your mind, duke." Edmund felt the familiar anxiety rising in his chest, and he swallowed a good portion of his wine as if to quench the burning in his chest.._

"_I have come from Archland, far across the Narnian border. I took shelter in a town not far from River Rush." He turned to look at the king in the eye. "Slavery continues there. I had thought you had banned slavery, but I was not sure, so I took no action. For this, I am sorry."_

_"Do not apologize, my lord." Edmund's eyebrows furrowed and he stroked his thumb over the neck of the goblet. "How severe is the situation?"_

"_Does the severity of the matter change the urgency in which it must be dealt with?" _

"_No, but it does in fact change the severity of the punishment." He narrowed his eyes. "I ask again, how severe is the situation?"_

_The man saddened, his shoulders slumping forward. "They are the living dead, my king. Their bodies are of bones, and their backs are marked with scars from numerous beatings. They speak with a voice of the dead, their eyes see no hope. Many are dead in the body, many dying, and all of them have died in the mind."_

_Edmund bit the inside of his lip, taking another sip from his wine. "How many, do you estimate, there be?"_

"_Their number is small, only that of a small village." _

"_Your knowledge has revealed an urgent situation that will be dealt with immediately. As a reward, you will be provided with shelter and food until you depart." He bowed slightly to the man._

"_Anything to serve Narnia. May Aslan bless you, High King Edmund." _

_He finished his drink, setting down the empty goblet and making his way towards his gentle sister. It was not hard to find the beautiful woman, and he gently grasped her elbow. _

_"Please excuse us, my friend." He nodded towards the prince who she had been dancing with._

"_Brother, what is your reason for this untimely interruption?" She scowled when he pulled her into a darker corner, his back to the crowd._

"_Sod it, Susan, I am your brother, do not speak to me in such formality." He turned to glance towards the dancing crowd. "I am afraid that our laws have gone unsuccessful in some places."_

"_What are you talking about, Ed?" Her eyes turned soft and she grabbed the cuff of his sleeve._

"_Slavery continues in the west. From what I have heard, it is an extremely severe situation." _

"_What? We banned slav-"_

_"I am aware, but some of chosen to ignore it." He glanced at her. "This situation is urgent, Su."_

_She nodded, flipping her hair over her shoulder and sighing. "How do you plan to deal with this? Slave owners are not exactly the kindest of men."_

"_I will visit them and discuss a treaty." _

"_You mustn't go alone! They will have your head on a platter!" She tightened her grip on his sleeve, tugging him closer to her. "Please, Ed, you must be safe."_

"_I will take a few of my men; there is no reason to fret."_

"_With you, there's always a reason to fret." _

"_Gee, thanks." He smirked, before his face turned solemn again. "If I am to free the slaves there, what am I to do with them?"_

"_Feed them and give them a place to rest their heads. We shall help them make a new start in this world, my brother." _

_"I will speak to Mr. Tumnus about calling a meeting to discuss this." He turned to look at the crowd again. "Your Prince Charming awaits you; I'd hate to keep you any longer."_

_"Brother..." She warned. "Slavery is more important than princes."_

_"No use ruining the party over something that can't be dealt with until tomorrow, right?" He smirked. "Plus he might be 'the one'."_

_"Oh shut up, Edmund." She cuffed the side of his jaw, smirking when he grabbed it in mock pain._

_"Enjoy yourself, Susan." They emerged from the darkened corner together, smiling as suspicious glances were pointed at them._

_Edmund took a seat in his throat, turning down any dance offered to him, he was in no mood to dance or speak. When the clock finally struck midnight, Edmund took his leave. The party ended not soon after, and Susan retired to her room. _

_When morning came, the king, dressed in fine garments of silk, summoned Tumnus to him. The faun, now shorter than the king, bowed to him. _

"_You have requested my presence, dear king?" _

"_Yes, yes. I am afraid that there is a situation in the west." He twisted the golden crown in his hand, debating whether or not to wear it. "A severe situation that needs immediate action."_

"_What is this you are speaking of, your Majesty?" The faun begun to look nervous, twisting the scarf in his fingers._

_  
"Slavery. Slavery in the west, just past River Rush." _

"_Well, King Edmund, I suggest you call forth a council meeting. They will give you advice on what course of action should be taken." He offered a faint smile. "I am sorry I am not of much help."_

"_It's quite alright, my dear friend. You are one of my most loyal advisors; this situation is just difficult to deal with." He tried smiling, but it ended in a grimace._

_Tumnus offered his last comfort before scurrying away to call forth a council meeting. Susan, her advisors, three dukes, and four of his own advisors were called to sit at the wooden oak table. Susan sat to his right, his main advisor to his left, and his guard behind him. _

"_Why have you called us here, Your Majesty?" The man, his third advisor, was only a few years older than himself, but much thinner in form. "Your servant Tumnus said it was of an urgent matter."_

_Whispers filled the room as they questioned what it could be._

"_I'm afraid it is." He stood to his feet, raising his right hand to call attention, the room falling completely silent "Our people have betrayed us."_

_They stared at him, mumbling amongst themselves. Edmund reached up, adjusting his crown before continuing on. "Slavery continues in the far west, just inside the border. To my understanding, the situation is far worse than I could have ever come to imagine."_

"_You are suggesting that our own people would willingly disobey and betray us?" An advisor to his laughed shortly. "You have lost your head, King Edmund. We searched the land when you passed the law; there were no remains of any slavery."_

"_The law was passed five years ago, time has passed. New towns have been founded." His main advisor fixed the other with an angry expression. "Logically, it is very possible that this situation came into being several years ago and we have looked over it."_

"_This cannot be true." An older man whispered._

_Edmund took a large breath. "I'm afraid it is, my friend, I'm afraid it is."_

"_You have no evidence!" One shouted._

"_A witness has told me of this. I put my trust in my people." _

"_You trust too easily!" They hummed in agreement and Edmund sat down, slumping forward in his chair. _

"_Silence!" Susan raised her right hand and the room fell silent again. "There will be no chaos, just order."_

"_King Edmund, if I may be so kind to speak, couldn't they be foreign travelers that have founded a town on our land, unaware of our laws?" The one that had spoke was young, younger than Edmund himself, and nervous._

"_Do not defend the traitors of our land!" The older one crackled, his fiery temper rising._

"_They are not traitors! Criminals maybe, but not traitors!" _

"_They have gone against our own Just King, who was appointed by Aslan himself. Thus they are traitors of Aslan! They are not worthy of being defended!"_

"_Are you calling our own king unworthy?" _

_The room fell silent, the man gasping as he came to realization on what he had said. Susan shut her eyes, reaching to place her hand over Edmund's, who had gone still. He moved his hand away, pushing his fingers into his temple. His eyes saw red, his heart felt pain, and his blood ran cold.  
_

"_Edmund…" Susan whispered, her voice broken as well._

_Another moment of silence passed before the young man lurched forward, banging his knee on the table. "My king, I am deeply sor-"_

"_Quiet now, we have strayed from topic." Edmund stood again. "How will we resolve this issue? That is the original question."_

"_War?" The young one whispered._

"_No, no, no. War is no way to solve the matters of a sinful heart." He glanced towards his main advisor. "I will journey west and discuss the matter with them."_

"_Out of question." Susan shook her head, hair falling over her shoulder. "Far too dangerous." _

"_I am a fine swordsman, I can defend myself." _

"_No doubt you are skilled, but there are more of them than there are of you." The wisest spoke._

"_Send Aliken."_

_Edmund shuddered. His look-alike was not exactly a good decoy for him. Sure, they shared the same hair color, skin tone, and eyes, but their build couldn't be more different. Aliken's frame was thin and bony; no muscle in his arms or legs, he stood four inches shorter than Edmund and his voice had yet to hit puberty. Overall, Edmund did not think his look-like was anything like him. Oh, did he fail to mention that Aliken was obnoxious? He never stopped talking, and if he did it was only to do some violent body movement (he labeled this movement "dancing") that made the man look like he was mental…or having seizures._

_"I would like to do this myself." He spoke after a shuddering minute._

"_We cannot let you, your Majesty." _

_His hand curled into a fist and he raised his eyes to lock onto the oldest advisor. "You have no authority over me. I am king."_

"_Edmund." Susan scolded._

"_We are advisors of the Table of the Lion. We have authority."_

"_I take my leave tomorrow, with or without your consent." He turned his back away, his boots clicking together as he moved towards the door. "Meeting closed."_

"_Edmund, stop." Susan stood, her hand extending towards him. "Please, just listen to us."_

"_How can you expect me to stay behind and let another man resolve the situation when my people are dying? Dying, Susan!" He whispered._

"_Our people, Edmund. Our people are dying." She turned to look at Tumnus, who had entered through the backdoor. "Tumnus and I have conjured up a plan. Please, listen to it."_

_He looked at her hand, the smooth skin that stretched over long fingers. Upon her left ring finger, she wore a silver ring. Engraved in the silver were the words 'family: J.S.E.R.'. The same ring clung to his finger and he twisted it in his hand. "Alright." _

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_Fine silks were replaced with black cotton, a golden crown with a black hood, Rhindon with a simple army sword, and a title with a commoner's name. _

_James, the bodyguard of High King Edmund the Just. Edmund despised it. _

_How do you take the name 'Edmund' and twist it into 'James'? What had Susan been thinking when she had come up with his decoy name? _

"_Aliken, please stand straight." Susan sounded exasperated. "No, no, shoulder's back. Like a king!"_

_Edmund rolled his eyes, shifting his position so he sat comfortably upon the horse's back. Philip turned to look at him from his position up front. Edmund just smirked, mouthing 'good luck' to his friend and turning his attention to the horse he currently sat on. A dumb non-talking horse with a coal black coat, just like the other bodyguard's horse, named Cobalt. He missed Philip, his loyal steed, but unfortunately Aliken, his decoy, was riding him._

_He had to to pull this off. It was all quite clever, really. Edmund was to go as one of Aliken's two bodyguards, and investigate behind the scenes while Aliken pretended to be him. Unfortunately, Aliken wasn't cooperating._

_The boy couldn't even stand right. _

"_Edmund, are you ready?" Susan whispered, gently laying her hand against his shoulder. _

"_Yes." He bent down, gently placing a swift kiss upon the top of her hair. "Be good, my Queen."_

"_You too, my brother, stay safe." She pulled away, smiling up at him.  
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_He said no more, but turned his horse away and directed his decoy forward. He took up the flank of Philip, side by side with the other bodyguard. The Narnian flags, strapped to the saddle and whipping around in the wind, rose high above their heads. _

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(Peter's POV)

The sun was much too hot, the air much too humid, and the water too scarce. Blood dripped from chapped lips, throats stung with dehydration, and hands bled with blisters. We did not complain, we couldn't. Our backs ached, and our vision swam, but we said nothing.

"Aslan, help us!" Women cried, clinging their children to their chests. "Deliver us, please!"

"_Silentium,__famulus!" _A crackle of a whip, a woman falls silent.

The sun beat down, burning the flesh off our backs. Sweat ran down the side of our foreheads, mixing in with the tears that flowed.

"_Traho , mancipium! Traho! Vos spurcamen!" _

We heaved forward, pulling the taught lines over our back. The large wall came to stand behind us. While we waited for the others to ground the wall into place, the we stood, hands rubbing raw from the rope.

I pulled back slightly, pulling more of the line towards me to take pressure off the old man behind me. My biceps ached, and I bit my lip to keep from crying from the pain in my blistered hands.

_"Traho!"_

One spit on me, and yet, I did not fight. Why would I fight them? What was the point of fighting something only to receive more punishment? Besides, I was the half-breed. The most despicable of slaves. My eyes and hair were fair, a clear blue and light yellow, like that of an Archenlander, my father was too blame, while my skin was gold like that of a Calormen, my mother to blame. Half-breed, a mutt. Racist.

My sister's skin was fair, like that of an Archenlander, and her eyes dark like a Calormen. Both of us were sold into slavery for our appearance, for our blood. They had taken my father too, leaving me the man of the house for several years before they taken me. I was only ten when I had arrived here, and yet I felt like I had been here since birth.

A sudden commotion flew throughout the camp. People gasped and pointed towards the horizon, smiles stretching on their faces for the first time in decades. I turned, wiping my sweat-matted hair from my face, and shading my eyes with my hand.

Flags. That's all I saw. Red and gold flags with a design embroidered in silver. A lion, it looked to be. Aslan.

"_Rex! Rex of Narnia! Planto via pro rex!" _

Slaves fell to their knees as the horses slowed to a canter, then a trot. The king himself was hidden from view by two of his front guards. I did not move as the Narnian ruler came to a halt in front of a slave master a few feet away from me. I had never seen the legendary ruler before, only heard stories. I watched as the slave master turned angry before calming and explaining something. The king nodded and the slave master smiled a yellow-toothed smile.

The slave master suddenly turned to me, gesturing widely. "_Vos! Dimidium-semino, adveho hic! Iam!"_

I frowned when I heard the language, but nodded and jogged to where he stood. I bowed when I reached the slave master, my eyes never raising to meet the king's. It was disrespectful for a man of my status to meet a king's eyes, let alone speak to him.

"_Take suus equus ut stabilis"_ The man hissed, turning his attention back to the king. _"Exspectata, meus senior. Nos es laetus vos have adeo saluto. Meus vernula mos take vestri equus ut vos may epulor nobis."_

The king looked confused, and I hid a smirk. No one really ever knew what the slave masters said, their language a mix of several. Only after eight years, did I finally learn their language and still my tongue felt foreign to it.

"_Gratias ago vos sir. Meus Rex rgis quod ego mos laetus suo vos parumper epulum gratia confero policies nostri pax. Ego mos, vero, tutela pro meus own equus. Gratias ago vos." _

I stopped in surprise, the king knew our language? Yet, upon listening to him, I came to realize it was not the king, but his guard. I glanced past the king and to the royal servant. His eyes were trained on the slave master's, but they flickered to mine and he offered a smile. I looked away, ashamed of my status. Though the man was a servant, he was not a slave and therefore I was not to communicate with him.

"_Supervacuus, bonus vir. Meus vernula mos take tutela of is."_ My master slowly reached forward, gently holding the reins of the king's horse.

The two guards in front swung down first, coming to stand on either side of the king's horse. When the king's feet finally touched the ground, I came to realize that the man was not as tall as I had imagined, or as old. He was several inches shorter than me, four or five by estimate, and his face looked to be around the age of fifteen. I was rather surprised by this, but said nothing of it.

The master gave a harsh shove to my shoulder and I quickly grabbed the lead of the horse, leading it towards the stables. I could hear footsteps behind me, then suddenly beside me. I turned my head to glance at the man, noticing that he was around the same height, and like no other man I had seen before. His eyes and hair were dark, coal-black you could say, but his skin was the fairest I had ever come to see. Half-breed, as well?

He turned to smile at me again, his intense gaze resting on mine. I turned away quickly, guilt rising into my chest. It was disrespectful.

_He is not at your level, you must not speak to him._

"_Quis est vestri nomen?" _Of course, he had to go and talk to me. I did not reply, but instead continued forward. He repeated himself once more, and still I did not answer. The air between us became thick with tension and I heard a shaky breath emerge from his lips. "_Commodo compello mihi , Ego sum of vestri campester. Vel summitto, nonnullus vires narrow."_

Lower? Than me? The only things worse than a half-breed slave were criminals. Not everyday thieving criminals, but traitors. My mother once told me that traitors were the worst of the people on earth, and that they had a specific place reserved for them in the Witch's Country.

"Peter." I mumbled, barely audible.

"Ed-James." He stumbled over his words, but said nothing more. "James."

"_Iucunditas" _I mumbled.

"Do you speak other languages?' He asked slowly, his tongue dragging out over each word, as if I wouldn't understand it.

"Yes." I found the latch to open the stable door, leading the horse inside and tying him to the stall door.

He made a hum of approval before he led the other horse to the other stall door. "You are a slave?"

I rolled my eyes, but did not turn to face him. "Yes."

He said nothing for a moment, completely run out of ideas. I heard him shift around for a brush, and I half-expected him to ask me for one, but I never heard his request. I turned to glance at him and was slightly shocked when I saw him running a curry comb over the horse's silk coat. He turned to look at me, offering me that tight-lipped smirk.

I said nothing and turned back to finish brushing the king's horse. When I had finished brushing his horse, I moved to the second. Only two more to go. My hand's brushed over the glistening coat and I closed my eyes, imagining I was back home, ten years ago, brushing the talking horse I had owned.

My dreams were interrupted by the clicking of boots, and I looked to my right to see the young man working beside me. He did not say anything, but continued brushing in silence. I appreciated the silence; I had grown use to it over the years. Most slaves were far too tired and sick to speak, let alone hold a conversation.

I wanted to say something to him, but what was there to say? I was not use to conversing with other human beings.

"Do you live at the castle? With the Kings and Queens?" I mumbled after a moment of thinking.

He smiled gently, almost sadly. "With the king and queen, yes. Cair Paravel."

"Is it nice there?" I moved to the other side of the horse, my voice staying low the entire time.

"Oh yes, very beautiful. It is like living in a dream." His voice was distant, eyes staring off into something I couldn't see. "A beautiful country, no doubt."

"Are you happy there?"

"Yes, everyone is. You would be too."

"I'm sure I would." I whispered, my heart clenching painfully in my chest. I would never know what it was like to roam the halls of Cair Paravel. I was destined to a life of starvation, dehydration, and sunburn.

"You'll see it one day." He moved onto the third horse, our backs facing each other.

I did not say anything at first, my voice lost at his sudden promise. "I will not."

"No, I ha-my king has come to free you. You will see it, I promise."

I dropped my brush against the stable door, leading the horse into the stall and bolting the door behind him. I turned briskly away, my heart pulsating rapidly. "You give false hope."

"Peter." My name sounded foreign on his lips. "I know that you have faced disappointment before, but I can assure you that you may hold onto the hope we bring. We will succeed."

"You speak out of your place." I mumbled. He was acting like _he_ was the king. I would not have him spreading false hope just to go and crush the hearts of the young ones.

"No."

I waited for him to elaborate, but he did not and instead turned to face the horse again, his hands working over the dark coat. I stared at him for a moment longer, my hands clenching and unclenching by my sides. He frustrated me and I could not figure out why.

A flash of metal caught my attention and I narrowed my eyes at his hip. A sword, a real Narnian sword. On the other hip, hung another. Twin blades, a skilled swordsman.

"You are a swordsman." I stated, my voice dropping to monotone.

"Yes."

I took a deep breath, resting against a stall door. I saw him turn to face me before placing the final horse into its own stall and setting the brush down. He approached me, almost cautiously. I narrowed my eyes at him, taking a step back.

"What are you doing?" I hissed.

He raised his hands as if to show his innocence. "Why are you so quick to judge me? I want nothing, but to help you."

My eyes saddened and I turned away, crossing my arms in front of my chest, a nervous habit of mine. "We are not treated nicely, not unless something is wanted of us."

"I want nothing of you. I just want your trust."

I looked at his eyes, noticing the way they did not look away from mine. He was the first to not be disgusted by me. I shook my head. "You cannot have my trust."

He sighed, and then dropped his hands. "Understood and with this, I take my leave."

I turned to look at his back, which was turned to me. He faced me once more, before taking his hands to his throat and unlinking a chain.

"Show this to everyone you know." He took my hand and I tensed. Something cold was pressed into my hands and he took his hand away before I could push him away myself. "Show them there is hope."

His back turned to me and I watched him leave before I unclasped my hand. There in the center of my palm, was a medallion. Engraved in it was the face of the Great Lion, his mouth opened in a permanent roar. Along the edges of the gold was a sentence.

_Hope and forgiveness are found in the mouth of the Lion._

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**A/N: Should I continue?**


	2. Showing of Kindness

**I'm alive! Okay so I hope you enjoy this! Tell me wat you think! Oh and remember James is Edmund's secret name :)**

The room was crowded, filled with hungry and starving people begging for food, clawing at me as I picked my way towards the back of the room. My sister sat against the far left corner, curling her knees into her chest and flinching away from the clawing hands. Her friend, Earne, sat beside her, tears pouring down her soft cheeks. I took a seat in the crowded place next to my sister, my arm going around her shoulders and pulling her closer to my chest.

"Lucy. Earne." I nodded towards both of them, my hand rubbing the soft skin on her arm.

"Peter..." She glanced up at me and offered that summer smile. The summer smile that was rapidly dying into winter...

"I'm here, Lu." I shifted to reach inside the fold of my leggings. "I brought food."

"Oh, Peter! They haven't passed it out, yet!" She looked at me curiously, her hand freezing over the offered bread. "You haven't stolen it again, have you?"

"You're hungry." I shrugged, pressing it into her hands and leaning back against the wall.

"If they ever caught you..." She shuddered at the thought, but quickly broke off a piece of the bread and offered it to me.

I shook my head and she offered it to her friend. Earne turned to look at me, her eyes rising in surprise, but she swallowed the broken bread without so much as chewing.

"Oh Peter, have you heard!?" She grabbed my hands in her smaller ones, and her summer (though quickly turning fall) smile broke through her face. "The king of Narnia has come to set us free! He is dining with the masters as we speak!"

I tried to not let my doubt show through my features. "We will see what he does; do not place false hope in him."

"He's a legend, Peter! Have you never heard the stories of King Edmund the Just!? He can take down an entire army with his sword and silence even the most evil of foes!" She set back against the wall, letting off my hand. "He's good. He'll save us.'

I did not dare discourage her and instead leaned my head back, closing my eyes and ignoring the stench of the dead around us. Suddenly a commotion lifted through the air, and the cries of the hungry increased. I pulled my feet in to keep from being trampled.

The slaves jumped into the air, reaching for the bread that was tossed into the room. Only five pieces of bread a day, served to an entire room of over fifty slaves. They fought for it, ripping into each other's flesh for the stale bread.

Filthy.

When the room settled down, those who had won the bread munching happily, I took a moment to survey the room. Only twelve lives had been taken, their bodies ripped apart by the hands of their fellow slaves, their mouths open in a silent scream and their hands frozen reaching for the food.

A gasp was heard from the front room and I glanced up to see what it was about. There in the doorway, stood the King of Narnia himself. His two bodyguards, one I recognized as James, stood behind him. The slaves moved back, enough to fall upon their faces in a bow.

"Sit up, my dear friends." His voice was high-pitched, and I wondered how old he truly was. "I have brought you a feast."

The slave masters, two large, broad-shouldered brutes, drew their swords (their swords were made of a weaker metal than the fine swords of the Narnians). "You cannot do this, your Majesty. You have no control."

The rear guard, one I recognized as James, moved forward, twin blades in hand.

"I am king." Edmund spoke, James hovering by his side. "These are my people."

A certain tone of uncertainty rolled off his tongue and I narrowed my eyes. A king was never unsure in his judgment, and if he was, he should never show it.

"They belong to us, we have complete control." The second master slurred, slowly closing the distance between him and the king.

"They are of my King's land, therefore they are his people." James hissed, twisting the sword over his wrist and catching it again, a trick few of us had seen. His voice, unlike the king's, held a tone of authority to it and I saw the slave masters' faces flash in fear. "Defy him and I will have your head."

The man backed away, a scowl forming across his face. He mumbled something inaudible in his language, before taking his place back at the other guard's side. James smirked, sheathing his swords and turning back to the king. I watched as two servants emerged from behind Edmund, carrying baskets of food.

Women began to cry when they saw the abundance of food, cradling their children and praising the Great Lion. The servants smiled, starting at the upper corners and distributing food to the slaves huddled there.

"Take only what is necessary, do not fight one another, there is enough for all." The young king turned and leaned against the wall, watching as the slaves stuffed the rich food into their mouth, crying in joy.

I stared blankly forward when the servants offered food to me, my throat suddenly dry. Was there really hope? Hope for a future? Lucy elbowed me and I sat forward, gently taking two loaves of bread and a vine of grapes and stuffing them in the fold of my leggings. Lucy, who had yet to learn patience, stuffed all of what she had taken into her mouth, her friend doing the same.

"Hello, Peter."

I glanced up as I heard my name, the word itself sounding so foreign when spoken by someone other than my sister.

James stood above me; his tight smile attached to his face and a jug hanging from his left hand. He glanced to the area around me, before kneeling before me. "Do you have no cup, nor flask, nor jar to drink from?"

Lucy stared at him, her mouth falling open.

"No, sir. I'm afraid I don't." I looked away, elbowing Lucy in the ribs. "Close your mouth, Lu. It's rude."

James finally seemed to take notice of my younger sister and his intense gaze turned to fix on her. A bright smile spread over her face and she lurched forward, her arms winding around his neck. I gasped, fear screaming through my body. We weren't allowed to touch those higher than us, let alone embrace them.

A slave owner saw my sister, reaching for his sword and approaching us, boots scuffing the entire way. I sat frozen, unsure of what to do, but ready to fight the man at any time.

"Is she disturbing you?" The owner glared at her, then at me.

"No, no. She is quite fine." James locked eyes with the man, drawing his words out. "Leave me."

The owner said no more and turned to leave. Lucy pulled back, her fingers freezing over his sleeve, before a smile stretched on her face. "I knew you would come! I knew it!"

"Lucy, you're speaking nonsense." I scolded, reaching for and releasing her grasp on the young man's sleeve.

James glanced at me, smirking, before turning his attention back to my younger sister. He brushed a hand through his hair, frowning when he saw her expression. "What bothers you, my dear child?"

I rolled my eyes. Speaking as if he was king again.

"Aslan did send you, right? I feel him. Like he's right here! Oh, sir, will I ever see him? He is real, isn't he?" Her eyes sparkled and he found himself melting.

"Yes, He is very much real." He motioned forward the other guard, standing quickly and whispering inaudibly into his ear, before sinking to his knees again.

"Are you his messenger?" She clasped my hand in one of her own, and Edmund's sleeve in her other.

"I am whatever he wants me to be." He smiled gently at her, his eyes flickering to me briefly.

"Have you seen him? What's he like!?" This question caught my attention and I gazed up at the darkened man.

"I have seen him, yet I find no words to describe him. You will see him one day, I promise." He glanced at me, his eyes coming to rest upon the slopes of my face. "I hope one day you will place faith in Aslan as easily as your sister does."

"I trust Aslan, I don't trust you." I hissed, disapproving of the false hope he gave my sister.

"I come as a servant of Aslan. He works through me; therefore, you must trust me, as well as Aslan's judgment." He stood as the guard returned, bearing two golden cups, and his eyes fixated on Lucy. "Take this and drink from it, your faith is strong."

She waited as they filled her drink, before she drank from it. She gasped. "Oh my, this water is…"

"Narnian. Enchanted, some might say." He handed me the other cup. "Drink for your strength is untiring."

I gazed at him, my eyes narrowing. "What gives you the authority to speak to me as if you are king?"

"What gives you the authority to speak to me as if I am a slave?" He stood to his feet, done filling my cup, before turning on his heel and striding away.

I drank the water and immediately my thirst, my raw throat, was satisfied. The stinging left, and I was left feeling revived. I watched the similar reactions around the room, some leaping to their feet and dancing around, laughs filling the air.

I did not resent the man, but his mysterious aura unbalanced my emotions, and I found myself craving the feeling of knowing who he truly was. I felt like he was hiding in his lies, and it unsettled me. Was he dangerous? Was he here to kill? None of my questions were to be answered, for I would never ask them in fear of my life.

I listened to the joyful chattering, the sound foreign in my ears. Even my own sister was chatting noisily at my side, her hands gesturing widely as she tried to reenact the story for me. Then she suddenly froze, her mouth freezing half open. She gripped my sleeve, leaning into my ear and whispering.

"Do you know the king's servant?" Her eyes were wide.

"Which one?" I asked, my eyes closed and my head tilted back against the wall.

"That one!"

"My eyes are closed, Lu. I can't see what you're pointing at."

"Then open them!"

"I'm tired."

"You're impossible."

"To some extent."

"Fine, the dark haired one. Dark eyes, dark hair, looks like the king himself!"

I sighed, my head rolling to the side to look at her. "I talked to him once. Why does it matter?"

"Cause he's staring at you." She sat back, a smirk on her face.

I sat forward slightly, my eyes focusing on the servant several yards away. His eyes were set on my face, biting his bottom lip, exhausted looking. He looked older than usual, his face worn and tired. He gave me a tight smile, his eyes brightening somewhat only to dim down.

I did nothing, but lay my head back down.

Then there was the rustling of fabric, a slight gasp and new warmth beside me. I opened my eyes, tensing as I realized there was another human beside me. More correctly, a man with dark eyes and dark hair. James.

"What do you want?" I hissed, pulling away.

"You are the only one I know here, can I not sit with you?" He shifted so his sword didn't jab into his side, and I took the brief second to scoot further away.

"You don't know me."

"I know you're name."

"That is only one detail about me, hardly worth counting."

"I would know you better," he turned to look at me, his intense gaze unsettling me, "if you actually talked to me."

"I don't want you to know me." I mumbled, realizing Lucy was watching me with shock.

He didn't respond, just reached a hand up to wipe away the mess of black hair from his forehead.

"Your sister?" He gestured to Lucy.

Lucy sat up excitedly and I nodded, my hand finding hers and weaving through it, the need to protect her jolting my system. "Yes."

"Hi." She smiled happily, her summer smile breaking through the winter haze.

"Hello," he laughed, extending his hand out to her, "I don't think I officially introduced myself before. I'm E-James."

She took it, shaking it quickly and laughing with a joy I hadn't heard in quite awhile. "My name is Lucy! It's a pleasure to meet you! You know my brother, Peter?"

He glanced at me, and then mumbled, "I know his name."

"Forgive his sourness. He's just a doubt-bucket." She smiled at me.

"Gee, thanks." I smiled at her, and then shifted back to dozing off again.

"I can understand why he, why all of you, would be doubtful. You must have suffered here for many years." He leaned back to where he had been sitting originally and I felt Lucy climb onto my lap, snuggling up on my chest.

"Yes, but it would have been far worse if Peter had not been here!" She smiled at me and I smiled half-heartedly back. She turned back to James. "Do you have a brother?"

I waited for the answer with my eyes closed. When he didn't reply after several moments, I glanced at him, noticing his suddenly chalk-white features and the thin line his lips made.

"Do you?"

He looked past both of us, and then frowned. "No. No, not anymore."

Anymore? My eyes softened when I realized there were tears dwelling in his eyes. A part of me, a very, very small part, wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell him that it would be okay, but the larger part of me was insensitive and I turned away.

"Oh...a sister?" Lucy tried hesitantly.

"One. Just one, now." The answer seemed to be painful for him to say and I finally came to realization. He had lost two of his siblings, a brother and sister. He glanced at me, his lips twitching up into a sad smile. "You remind me of my brother a little bit. He had blonde hair like you, just as golden. He was...."

He trailed off and I didn't push him to continue, I just moved my leg so it touched his boot. He glanced up and I nodded at him in sympathy. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I deserved it." He shook his head, nervously brushing the hair from his eyes. "Is it just the two of you?"

"Yeah." Lucy smiled. "Well there's mum and dad, but we don't really know them that well."

He gave her a confused look, his eyebrow disappearing behind his hair. I took the liberty to explain. "We were taken at a young age."

"Why? If you are not born into slavery, what gives them the right to take you?" He switched positions so he was sitting cross-legged beside us.

"We're half-breeds. Mutts, you could say." I whispered, "We're disgusting, according to them. Only purebloods are acceptable."

He whispered something under his breath, a disgusted look upon his face. "They make you sound as if you are dumb animals."

I nodded my head, but Lucy sat a little straighter in my lap. "What are you of? You don't look like an Archenlander, or Calmorne, or Narnian...or anything of this world, really. Your hair is too dark for an Archenlander, but your skin too fair for a Calmorne, and your accent is not of Narnia, Archenland, or Calmorne."

"I am not of their blood." He shrugged, looking away for a minute before looking back. "I am not of this world."

I scoffed, a faint chuckle escaping my lips, "And clearly insane!"

"No, no. I am from England, it's a different dimension. My s-Queen Susan and King Edmund, and the other prophesied two, are from there as well. It's located near Spare Oom in the Country of Wardrobe." He smirked, as if it was an inside joke.

"You come from the same world as our King and Queen?" Lucy trembled with excitement. I stared ahead in shock.

"Yes, yes, I do." He smiled at my sister, then sat forward. "Lucy, my friend, why are you so fascinated with the King and Queen?"

"They are all I believe in. Well Aslan too." She shrugged, looking away. "They are good people, aren't they?"

"Queen Susan is. Very gentle, very beautiful. Good ruler." He mumbled a distant look in his eye. "The foundation of the family, really."

"And not King Edmund?" Lucy looked at the king at the front of the room. "He's a good ruler. He's fought millions of battles, won hundreds, and has given mercy to those who don't deserve it. Isn't he a good ruler?"

A look of pain entered his eye. "Aslan appointed him."

"That doesn't answer her question." I was suspicious now. James didn't seem to care for the Just King, and it was starting to bother me.

"Does my opinion really matter? I am just his servant." He stood to his feet, the slave owners herding everyone out of the room. "It was nice speaking to you, my fair lady. Sir." He bowed to us both, rendering us both speechless."

I watched him disappear into the crowd, and felt my heart clench painfully at his story. I wasn't sure of his complete past, and I was sure I had drawn some wrong conclusions, but I thought my story was close. James had arrived in Narnia with King Edmund, lost two of his siblings, and didn't care for the Just King. Had King Edmund killed James' siblings? Was he planning to execute his revenge?

I shook my head. Another series of answered questions making its way into my heart. I took Lucy's hand, pulling her to her feet and gently tugging her out of the room. She was separated from me as soon as I reached the fields, and I kissed her forehead.

"Be strong, Lu." I whispered the same whisper I did everyday, before turning and walking into the field.

The sun beat down on me and I broke out into a sweat. The shovel in my hands was of little use as I dug the root out from underneath the ground. It was better than my bare hands, yes, but the wood left splinters and blisters in my hand. Soon, they were bleeding and I bit back the tears that threatened to spill.

"Ocius! Vos, dimidium - semino! Ocius, stolidus Mancipium!"

I felt the whip on my back, and a single tear squeezed out through my eyelid. I didn't complain though and kept working, my arms aching and my back stinging. Then I heard the sound of several horses, and several slaves cursing loudly, the bravest spit on the ground. I looked up and caught sight of _him_. Him being the main slave owner, the owner of all of us, and the founder of this place. He sat on the back of a tall chestnut, his hideous face turned towards the other rider, the King of Narnia. Behind the king sat James and the other guard, their eyes staring forward.

The slave owner, Chec was his name, looked angry, gesturing madly with his hands. James said something and Chec looked at him, glaring at the other man with black eyes.

The king said something and then Chec looked towards the slave closet to him. He yelled loudly, gesturing widely until the younger man came to stand beside him. Chec flailed his arms around a bit, before shouting something at the king. There was a pause, and then the king turned away, glancing towards James.

James shook his head and Chec screamed, causing all of us (even those at the end of the field) to jump.

They trotted off into the distance when Chec was done screaming and I was left behind, confused and slightly frightened.

* * *

I didn't see them for the rest of the day, but when they came back, just a few minutes before shower time, they looked worn and tired. I saw James dismount his horse and lead it towards the stable, a slave following him with the king's horse. A few minutes later, James emerged, the slave in tow, and made his way towards the larger cabins (where visitors were kept). He looked to be speaking to the slave, when suddenly the slave spotted us waiting by the showers and departed from the king. James followed (big surprise).

It was several minutes before he spotted me, since several slaves crowded him, kissing his feet as if he was royalty as well. I moved over, allowing him to sit down on the steps of the shower cabin with me.

"You look tired." He whispered, his own voice exhausted beyond recognition.

I nodded, laying my head against the railing. I allowed a few slaves to pass me as the line moved up, too tired to really care if I got my shower time in.

"What's this line for?"

I yawned quietly before closing my eyes. "Showers. We each get a minute to take a shower. The line goes fairly quick, considering the masters are very strict on the time. Over a minute and you receive a beating."

"That's harsh." He glanced at me, his face sad. "Listen, I know you can't stand me, and probably even think I'm a stalker, but I want to help you."

I raised an eyebrow up at him, my eyelids heavy.

"Come to my cabin, take a shower there. Find some rest." His eyes were truly kind and I found myself looking away from them.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" He smiled at one of the slaves that passed them in a hurry to get to the shower.

"Your king would not approve, neither would my owners." I laid my head back down.

"My king trusts me, and your owners would be idiots to defy the king."

"Why me?"

"What?"

"Why me? Why not some other slave? Why are you so kind to me in particular?"

The question seemed to startle him and he took a second to think. "I don't know. Guess it was cause you were the first to talk to me. Please, I just want to help you."

I looked at him for a minute, then sighed and shook my head. "It wouldn't be fair to the other slaves."

"I will offer them the same thing every night. Plus, most of them aren't even paying attention." He gestured to the mass of slaves crowding their way in, some dropping to their knees in exhaustion.

"I don't know..." The idea was starting to sound awfully appealing and I could feel my resolve weakening away.

Another minute of his pleading passed and I gave in, my legs shaking as I stood with him. He moved past a few of the slaves, ignoring the way their eyes followed him and leading me towards the larger cabins. I crumbled to the ground when we reached the first step, my body shaking in exhaustion.

He bent down and helped me to my feet, gently leading me up the stairs. When we finally arrived inside the cabin, I froze.

Two beds...yes, beds. No wooden bunk beds with no sheets or comforters, but beds. Beds with white sheets, white comforters, and white pillows. A desk was located in the far corner with several papers spread out on it. And the best thing yet, the bathroom was located inside the room! My system went into shock and faltered, my head collapsing against his shoulder. He smirked, leading me towards his bed and allowing me to sit down.

It felt so nice that I almost fell asleep, my entire body shaking in shock.

"Don't fall asleep, Peter. I'm going to fill the tub." He left my side, and I slumped back against the comforter.

I tried hard not to fall asleep, but the back of my head resting against a pillow was just far too much and my eyes slipped close. I was on the brink of a deep slumber when I felt a hand on the back of my neck. I screamed out, my automatic response kicking in. My hand curled into a fist and I swung blindly. When I pulled my hand away, it stung in pain.

"What in Aslan's main was that for!?"

My eyes snapped open to realize I had punched James. I sat up quickly, my hand going to my mouth, apologies streaming out. "I'm sorry! I didn't know it was you! I'm so sorry! Please, just don't hurt me! I'm so sorry!"

"Stop apologizing. It was a mistake, you're forgiven." He smirked, but it turned into a frown seconds later. "What do they do to you to make you react like that?"

"Nothing." I sat up, pulling myself off the bed and walking towards the door. "I shouldn't be here."

"No, no, no. Peter, stay. Your bath is ready. At least take a bath." He sat down on the edge of his bed, gazing at the floor. "Please."

I didn't say anything at first, I just stared forward. He didn't pressure me, so finally I moved forward, and then bowed at his feet. "Thank you. For all of this. I think I can believe you now."

"Good." He smiled gently. "It's been a long day. Take a bath."

I turned around and headed for the bathroom. I had enough common sense to close the door behind me, though I was quite use to showering naked with ten or twenty other boys. Somehow bathing naked in front of James just wasn't the same.

It wasn't until I slipped into the water did the realization hit me again. I had let a man earn my trust over in one day....and it didn't bother me. Wasn't the fact that he was being so nice supposed to make me suspicious? Why was he being so nice to just me? What did I do to deserve this?

_You remind me of my brother._

Of course. It all clicked together, and suddenly I just didn't care anymore. I didn't care if he was nice to me just because I resembled his brother, at least he was nice. I didn't care if he had won my trust over too easily, at least I trusted someone. I didn't care that I had only known him day; at least I had come to known him.

When I felt like I washed my body thoroughly, the best washing I had ever done, I slipped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around my waist.

"Peter, are you decent?"

I nodded, until I realized he couldn't see me. "Yeah."

He walked in, noticing the way I gripped my dirty leggings like they were a disease. He chuckled, offering a pair of silk trousers. _Silk!_

"Just for tonight."

I was too tired to fight so I took the trousers, dropping the towel without so much as thinking and slipping them on. He looked away, a faint blush covering his cheeks. I suddenly realized that I had not only gone naked in front of him, but also put on his trousers...commando. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." He smirked, looking back. "You can take my bed tonight; I'll wake you up on time."

"Where would you sleep?" I glanced around nervously, feeling the 'bad-boy' image I carried erase away completely.

"On the ground." He held a hand up when I opened my mouth to speak. "I like it on the ground, ok? Don't freak out. You're sleeping on the bed, that's an order."

I didn't fight him, but only followed him out into the bedroom. The other guard slept on the bed next to James', his back to me. I laid down, cautiously watching as he stood to remove his shirt, the too pale skin flashing as the black garment was removed. I said nothing, only stared, when I saw a scar, raised off the skin ever so slightly, on his mid-stomach. From the scar was black, spider-web like, veins extending from it. It looked almost haunting and fascinating at the same time.

I promised myself I wouldn't allow this occasion to happen again. No, this was something that only happened once in your life.

The last thing I saw before I fell into the deepest slumber I ever remember being in was James' scars. Particularly the ones on his stomach and hip. The one on his hip looked to be a word, as if some foe had carved it into his skin.

A scar so faded, that I could only make out the letters 'TRA--OR', before I fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: So did it move too quickly? My usual doubts you know. I know Peter is a little bit out of character and I know he came to trust Edmund far too easily, but you have to remember that Peter is exhausted by the end of the day, and when you're exhausted you're not always willing to put up a quite a fight. So please review!**


	3. The Traitor that has stolen your mind

**Okay so I hope you enjoy this! Tell me wat you think! Oh and remember James is Edmund's secret name :)**

_The traitor that has stolen your mind—Traitor by Rebecca Salmon_

I wasn't sleeping as peacefully as I probably should have. I couldn't, due to the man that slept on the floor beside my bed. His screams and cries and shouts of pain woke me from my slumber several times during the night. I noticed the other guard was awake and staring at me. It made me rather self-conscious and I turned my eyes back to James. He tossed around, his hands going out and clawing at the ground beside him.

"Please don't! They haven't done anything wrong! Please!" His cries turned into broken sobs and his back arched up as a raw scream tore from his throat. "Joshua, no! Rebecca! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

I reached over; pushing my hand against his shoulder, trying to rouse him from his nightmares, but the other guard grabbed my arm. He was standing by my bed, a sad expression on his face.

"That won't serve much use, I'm afraid." He gestured to James. "Those aren't nightmares, they're night terrors."

I looked down at the writhing body, now violently twisting on the ground. "What's the difference?"

"You can't wake someone from a night terror." He sighed sadly, his eyes fixated on the young man's form. "They have to wake up on their own."

I jumped when James sat up, his eyes seeing something we couldn't, and a blood-curling scream erupted from his throat. I winced, pulling away from the edge of the bed as he slumped back down onto he ground. I glanced at the other bodyguard, looking towards James again. "How long do they last?"

"A few more minutes usually. Come on, let's get some air." He gestured towards the door, and I moved past the writhing body and followed him out.

"Sorry you had to wake to those." He mumbled, his hands in his pockets. "I'm Rackel, by the way."

"Err...Peter and it's fine." I shivered in the cold air as we took a seat on the steps of the cabin. "Not you're fault."

Rackel smiled, turning away to look at the stars above us. "I wouldn't mention this to Edmund though; he would be embarrassed that you heard him."

"Edmund? You mean James?" I felt a suspicious feeling rise in the back of my head, but I pushed it away.

"James, that's what I meant. Sorry, I get them mixed up a lot." He closed his eyes as the screams filled the air. "They look too much alike."

"Agreed." I whispered, drawing my knees to my chest. "Why does he have those? What are they about?"

Rackel glanced at me, his eyes softening. "It's not my story to tell."

Another scream pierced the air and then all fell silent. There was a faint rustle and I glanced over my shoulder to the door. I heard footsteps and shallow breathing, then the door opened and James emerged. He glanced at me, his eyes red from crying and his breathing ragged. He looked away, buttoning the last button on his tunic and jogging down the steps between Rackel and me.

Rackel just stared at his feet, while I called his name. James froze, his shoulders tense as he turned to face me. He tried smiling, but his bloodshot eyes showed no happiness. "Yes?"

"Are you alright?" I whispered as I approached him.

"I'm fine, Peter. I suggest you get some sleep before you have to go to work." He turned away, his black boots scuffing on the ground.

"Where are you going?" I called after him.

"For a ride." He called back, his stride picking up speed.

I jogged up to him, feeling as if I owed him something (for the room and all). He glanced at me from the side of his eyes, but said nothing. I didn't pressure him to say anything, seeing as how he was still very upset. When we reached the stables, I unbolted the door and led out his black horse. He watched me with tired eyes, his breathing now slow and even. I saddled his horse quietly, all the while watching him rest against the stall door.

He looked so old and tired. I eventually led his horse to him, holding the reins as he swung up. He looked down at me and a faint smile appeared on his lips. "Do you want to come with me, Peter?"

"I can't. I'm sorry."

"Why not?"

I sighed, allowing my hand to drop from the horse's lead. "I don't have a horse, nor am I allowed to leave."

He looked at me sadly. "I'll have you back before it's time. You can borrow Philip."

The noble horse, a soft chestnut color, raised his head and looked at me. He smiled, if a horse could smile that is, and nodded his head at me. "It would be a pleasure, sir!"

I smiled, reaching over and stroking the fine horse's mane. "No, no, I can't. I'm deeply sorry, err…Philip?"

The horse nodded and I smiled again, brushing a lock of hair from his face and patting him on the muzzle. James frowned, turning his mount towards me and coming to stand alongside me. He looked down at where I stood then gestured towards the sky. "Peter, look towards the sky, the stars are still visible and the sun still hidden."

"I have to be up before the sun is fully over the horizon."

"I'll have you back before then. If I don't, I'll suffer the beating."

"No, I can't." I dropped my hand from his mane, smiling at the horse once more before turning to leave.

"Peter, please. I wouldn't mind the company," he nervously glanced at the reins in his hands, "I don't want to be alone right now."

I looked back at him, seeing his bloodshot eyes and exhausted structure, and took pity on him. I nodded, releasing the bolt on Philip and allowing the horse to trot up to me. I saddled him with ease, and then swung up onto his back. "You lead."

James did so, pushing his horse into an easy canter and riding west. We weren't even half-way out of the lot when a slave master, half-dressed, came running up, flailing his arms madly.

"Subsisto! Subsisto! Quis es vos effectus!? Subsisto! Subsisto!"

Two more slave owners emerged from the cabins, yanking their shirts on. ""Thief! Thief!"

"Quam operor nos teneo vos es non rapio him?"

"Yeah! You'll nunquam addo him tergum!"

"Ego mos non relinquo meus rex rgis! Quam praesumo vos ingenero ut ego would!" James glared at them.

"Is mos fugio!"

"Sit a amicus of vestri!"

"Vos es a proditor!"

"Silentium! Capio is mancipium me ut flumen, vos would exsisto stultus contemno meus rex rgis quod Ego! Permissum nos unus! Sit subsequens meus to order! Permissum nos unus!" James held up his hands, his sword glinting in the moonlit and for a minute, he looked like a king.

They cursed, spitting on the ground, before turning and walking back into their cabins. We cantered out of the lot, our backs to the slavery camp behind us. I followed James up a trail, my eyes widening as I passed several trees that reached out to me. James bent his head back and laughed as the leaves danced around him, forming a human shape.

"King Edmund! King Edmund!" The small form cried, lifting her hands into the air. (I would guess she was a dryad).

"No, no. I am James, King Edmund's bodyguard. Edmund rests back at camp."

"No! We know our king; do not play such games with us, your Majesty! Come! Come have a feast with us!" Four more dryads joined in on the song. "Come, come, find a place to eat! A feast! A feast! A feast enough for a king!"

He turned to look at me, and then sighed. "I cannot join you, my dear friends. King Edmund sends his love though! Farewell, friends!"

I followed him as he cantered down into the waterbed, his eyes dark. He dismounted, allowing his horse to drink, before plopping down on the muddy bank. I led Philip to the water before sitting down next to him.

For a minute, I just stared. "J-J-James?"

"Yes?" He whispered almost tiredly.

"Why did they call you King Edmund?" I sighed, shaking my head before starting over. "No, why'd the call you King Edmund when they should know what their king looks like?"

"King Edmund and I share similar traits, we are easy to confuse." He picked up a flat stone and threw it against the water's surface. It sunk without skipping. "Especially when they haven't seen their king in several years."

"Anyone in their right mind could see the differences between you and the king." I whispered, tossing my own flat stone into the water. It skipped three times before sinking.

"Hmm, that's what I thought." James mumbled, skipping another stone and watching miserably as it sunk without a skip.

"You're taller by at least half a foot." I smirked, skipping another stone. Three times, sunk. "He's smaller in frame."

"His eyes are brighter than mine, almost golden-brown." James searched for another stone.

"Less muscular." I froze when I realized what I had said, and bent my head to hide my blush.

"He's fought fewer battles than me; I would hope he's less muscular than me." He smirked good-naturedly.

"His voice is..err…less…not quite…ehh…" I sighed, giving up and tossing another stone. Two times, sunk.

"Less masculine? Almost feminine." He smiled. "I know, trust me, I know. "

I laughed, "I feel like I am insulting my king!"

"He's worth insulting." The words were barely audible, but I caught them nevertheless.

"Excuse me? You say such a thing about our king?"

"I'm sorry." He didn't sound sorry at all.

"You don't care for our king, do you?"

"No, not at all." He sighed, throwing the remaining of his stones into the water and laying back on his back.

I took a minute, skipping my final stones, before laying back beside him, my head turning to face him. I watched as he blinked at me, his eyes closing before opening again to look at me. I just sighed, feeling the cool night air lay a blanket of ice over us, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to remove the blanket.

"Why not? He is a good man."

"He is not worthy." James turned away, yawning. "Not worthy of kingship."

I didn't say anything, just closed my eyes, feeling the mud soak in through the back of my shirt. Neither of us moved and I think James had fallen asleep. I allowed my own self to drift off, my body exhausted from years of hard labor.

When I opened my eyes again, the morning sun beat down on us through the cool of the trees, the morning dew wet against our skin. James slept peacefully, his chest rising and falling with each breath. I didn't move, my body molded to the mud though I didn't care much. I was comfortable and had no intentions of moving anytime soon.

I never really had time to think and when I did, it was thoughts of anger and revenge upon the slave masters. I didn't bother with finding peace or hope for the future, that wouldn't satisfy me. At night, I fell asleep to the sound of crying, groaning, and occasionally the sound of skin sliding against skin as two lovers made love to each other in the cool of the night. In the morning, I awoke to the stench of the dead, blood, and vomit. Lovers laid naked, exposed to the entire room, and yet none of us cared. There was no true act of love here; men raped woman and other men daily.

I had lost my friend to a slave master, my only friend here. The slave master, drunk with wine, had raped my friend and killed him in the morning. I had pulled away from any form of friendship after that, never finding the need to open myself up to someone.

Then James came. I found myself desiring his friendship, his smile and his warm aura. I was scared, even as I lied here away from the slave camp, I was scared. I was scared that I would trust him and love him like a dear friend and then he would leave.

"What are you thinking about?"

I blinked past the haze from staring too long, noticing James was staring at me. A soft smile broke through his features and I was reminded of my friend.

"Nothing." I rolled onto my back, the mud still caked to my cheek.

James sighed, sitting up and shaking his mud-matted hair. "Alright."

"It's late, I should go back."

"You don't have to quite yet. I'll get you there before noon." He stood to his feet, extending his hand towards me.

I declined it, standing to my feet and watching as he unbuttoned his shirt. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Let me get this straight, you can go around shirtless, but I can't?" He smirked, slipping the shirt off his shoulders and wading into the water. "I'm bathing."

I smirked, until I noticed the scars upon his back, several looking as if they had been from a whip. I opened my mouth to ask about them until I decided to leave it alone, wading in after him. "You don't have the muscles I have, so there's really no reason to remove your shirt. Nothing to show off."

"Ha ha, funny." He splashed me, then disappeared beneath the surface.

I backed up towards the shallow part of the bank until I felt a hand grip my ankle and pull me under. I twisted in the grip, grabbing the arm that held my ankle and pulling it off. The arm moved up towards the surface and I yanked it back down, holding my breath as long as I could. The body allowed me to pull it under, his feet touching the rocky bottom at the same time as mine.

Then he pushed off the bottom as powerfully as he could, pulling us both up and breaking the surface. I gasped for air, flicking the fringe out of my face and laughing when he coughed.

"You git!" He smirked, treading water and pushing me underwater again.

I grabbed his waist on my way down, pulling him underwater with me. I felt his hands grip my biceps and he wrestled me, his strength matching mine easily. I felt my hands slip on his bicep and he yanked away, swimming as fast he could in the opposite direction. I broke the surface for air, before diving underwater again, opening my eyes. The water stung somewhat, but I paid no heed. His leg kicked near me (in his desperation to get away) and I grabbed it, yanking it back and watching as he was dragged back towards me. I moved my hands up to his lower thigh, yanking him even closer until I had a good grip on his biceps. I pulled him, back to chest, against me and held him there.

He struggled and fought, his back brushing against my chest, but I didn't release him. Then he stopped fighting and banged his leg back on mine. I pulled him up to the surface, releasing him.

"You win. I forfeit!" He cried as soon as I broke surface. "Aslan, you're a fighter."

"You held your breath for two minutes." I was rather shocked by this. "Impressive."

He smirked, climbing up towards the bank and collapsing in the mud. "Wore me out."

I laughed, pulling myself up next to him and collapsing on my stomach, my head turned towards him. "I'm not much better off."

"They could really use you in the army, you know." He smirked, his breath coming out in ragged, shallow breaths. "You look for openings and use strength to conquer their weaknesses…"

He started to go on, but I interrupted him with a laugh. He shot me a confused look and I just smiled. "You got all of this out of swimming?"

He nodded and I laughed again, reaching over and yanking on a piece of his hair. "You're strange."

He laughed, wincing only briefly when I yanked his hair. "I suppose, but seriously. After we free you, you should seriously consider joining the Narnian army. We could really use soldiers like you."

I frowned suddenly, pushing myself up on my elbows and resting my head in my hands. I took a deep breath then looked at James again. "I know we've only known each other for two days now, but…can I ask something of you, if it's not too tedious?"

He rolled over onto his back, looking at me with honest concern. "What is it?"

"If you're given the chance…or if King Edmund is given the chance to free one slave, you know, just in case it's part of an agreement or something…could you free my sister?" I looked down at my shaking hands, sighing deeply and holding my breath.

James inhaled deeply, pushing a hand through his hair. "Yes, I can promise you that."

"Thank you." I crossed my arms on the ground and laid my head against them to hide the tears. "Thank you so much, James."

He said nothing, just reached over and laid a hand against my shoulder. "Do you trust me now, Peter?"

I started to cry openly, rolling over onto my side to show him the tears flowing down my cheeks. "Yes, yes, yes. I trust you. I trust you."

He smiled gently. "Then why are you crying?"

"I trust you. I can trust someone…and it doesn't feel wrong or misplaced. I trust you." I whispered, my eyes boring into his.

"Trust Aslan and what he will do through me, but don't trust me." His eyes were suddenly troubled and he sat up, his mouth going slack.

"What?" I looked up at him, confused and slightly fearful.

"Never mind." He turned to offer me that moonlit smile, his eyes dark. "We should go back now."

I nodded, standing to my feet and walking to where the horses stood, my hand clasping over the reins. I swung up onto the horse's back, waiting for James to do the same after he grabbed his shirt and buttoned it up. We rode off towards the camp and I felt the happiness leave slowly. I had been happy back there, truly happy. Now, I was walking back to the very land I dread.

I could run, I knew I could, but Lucy was back there. I wouldn't leave Lucy alone. We cantered back, slaves upturning their eyes toward us and gasping. Some pointed and others whispered amongst themselves. I looked down at my silk trousers and swallowed.

"James?"

He looked over his shoulder towards me. "Yes?"

"I should probably change back."

"Ah, yes." He cantered towards the stable, dropping our horses off and leading me back to his cabin.

He waited outside while I changed and then walked with me to a slave owner. The owner narrowed his eyes, frowning as I stuck to James' side. He pulled the whip to his side, unraveling it so it touched the ground.

"Give him no beating, I requested his presence."

The owner nodded, and then pushed me rather roughly out towards the field and I stumbled to my spot, dropping to my knees and working the soil. I looked up to James, seeing his sad expression.

"James!"

He tore his eyes away from me and looked to the horizon. Rackel smirked, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him up the sloped land. "What do you think about a spar? Just a quick one?"

James smirked, mumbling something back that I couldn't hear. When they were at the northern end of the field, they stepped away from each other and unsheathed their swords. I saw several slaves momentarily pause in their work, before quickly returning to it, still sneaking occasional glances to where James and Rackel stood.

I worked with my eyes trained on them, watching as James pulled out a second sword. He circled Rackel, his eyes fixated on his opponent, then he attacked, a wide swing to the center with his left sword. Rackel blocked, bouncing back before sprinting forward and bringing his sword crashing down. James crossed his swords in front of his face, pushing his opponent backwards and bringing both swords down on Rackel's one. Rackel faltered, stumbling backwards as he blocked every blow. James never tired, his swords showing no mercy. Rackel suddenly went for an opening and it all happened too quickly. James sheathed his left sword, moving aside so the sword went between his arm and his body, clamping his arm against his side so the sword was trapped, then used his free hand to twist Rackel's wrist, causing him to drop his sword. James loosened his hold on the sword, grabbing the handel and whipping it around so it faced Rackel. He held both swords criss-crossed at his opponent's neck.

The air was quiet around them, all of us unsure of how a spar went when one was defeated. Then both men laughed, James offering the sword back to Rackel. Rackel smirked, mumbling something, and James laughed, patting him on the back.

The whip caught me by surprise and I flinched away, my hand automatically going to defend me. It came down again, cutting into my flesh, and I bit my lip in pain. I realized now that I hadn't been working, just watching, and they had spotted me slacking off. Another time and I was crying, pulling away from them as my back bled.

"Don't pull away, you dumb slave!" Another time, then another.

They pulled away after the sixth time and shoved my face to the ground. I laid there a second, before I sat back on my heels, my hands working the soil again as tears rolled down my cheeks. I looked up to see James frozen in place at the end of the field, his dark eyes staring at me, jaw slack. Then there was anger, pure rage, in his eyes.

A whip came down on me once again, I was slacking again. I kept my eyes on James the entire time, my body writhing in pain as the whip kept coming down. Then I saw the rage turn into blind fury as James made his way towards where I sat.

"Release him!"

The slave master paused, eyebrow raising as James came to stand beside him. "What gives you the authority! You are not king!"

James froze again, his eyes looking down at me, then up to the slave master again. "I am the king's servant."

"Just as low in status as him, I believe."

"No, no he's not! He is above you! Bow to him! Bow to him!" A slave a few feet behind the master cried, his eyes on the situation before him.

"Shut up!" The master turned, his whip uncoiling and slashing the boy in the face.

The boy cried out, blood running from the cut on his forehead. He held a hand to it to keep the blood from running into his eyes. The cut was deep, and the boy sobbed brokenly.

There was the sound of a sword sliding against its cover. We all looked up to see James' sword extended towards the slave master, an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Put your sword down." The master hissed. "I wouldn't want the precious king's servant getting hurt."

James, still a teenager, growled with anger, his hand curling into a fist. To say we were shocked was an understatement, when James punched the man square in the jaw. He pulled back, his hand uncurling. The slave master looked down at the blood in his hands, my own eyes widening.

"You filthy vermin!" He spit the blood on the ground, his lip split open. The whip pulled back, hissing in the air, before cracking down on James with a snap.

James yelped, pulling back. His hand going to his shoulder, where a fresh cut was laid against his collarbone. Another hiss of air and James stumbled back, his cheek split open.

"Stop him! Stop him!" Slave masters from around the field ran towards us, their arms flailing. "Stop this! Stop this!"

The master didn't listen, but instead brought his whip down again and again on James. I stood to my feet, unsure of what I could do. James was on the ground again, slashes marking his body. Blood poured out freely through the cuts, his eyes screwed closed in pain. The master raised his hand to deliver yet another blow, but two other masters grabbed his arms, yanking him back.

"You fool! He is the king's servant! How dare you lay a hand on him!"

"I'm sorry, sir." An owner helped him to his feet, holding him up.

"He punched me, the vermin! Behead him! Behead him! Off with his head!" The enraged owner struggled against the hold.

A horn was blown, our signal for dinner usually. Except it wasn't dinner time. The slaves crowded toward the room, their eyes trained on the scene playing out before them. I didn't follow the slaves, but instead stood rooted to my spot.

"Control yourself!" They hissed at the master.

"You! Half-breed! Take him to his cabin! Bandage him!" A gruff owner called to me, gesturing to James.

"Of course! Send his lover!" The angered master screamed.

"Stop speaking non-sense!"

"Oi! Quis iens in hic!"

I watched as the other slave masters emerged from the cabins (the ones that didn't speak English usually worked later in the night).

The yelling faded out as I came to stand by James, my arm going around his waist and helping him towards his cabin. I heard the commotion behind us, but paid no heed to it. James limped beside me, his blood soaking through his shirt and smearing against my side. When I reached his cabin, I helped him lay on his bed.

"Stay here. I'm going to get some bandages."

I pulled away from his bedside, my hand clenching at my side. They had harmed James, struck an innocent man. I stopped at the doorway, turning to look back at him.

_Aslan, he's my friend, please don't let harm come to him._

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**A/N: So I put a litle fluff in with the swimming scene...If you're unsure about anything, or have questions on anything please message me. I hope you enjoy :)  
**


	4. I need a Hero

**A/N: Okay this by far has to be the weakest chapter I have ever written, but it is neccessary for the rest of the story. Please don't judge me too badly...I tried, didn't I?**

**Anyway, I'm really in love with Peter/Edmund AU stories right now, if you know any good ones please message me! I'm thinking about doing a future Peter/Edmund AU one..but I don't think so. Anyway please review!**

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_I can feel his approach  
Like a fire in my blood  
I need a hero_  
_--I need a hero by Bonnie Tyler_

I was only a few yards away from the cabin when I was tackled by an auburn haired girl. Tears marked her face and I gently wrapped my arms around her form, burying her face in my neck as I knelt down.

"Oh Lucy, what's wrong?" I whispered, my lips pressing against her hair.

"Peter! Peter, did you hear?" She cried softly, her arms winding around my neck. "The king's servant is injured! A master attacked him! Oh Peter, I pray it wasn't James. He was so nice!"

"It's alright, Lu. I'm tending to James myself, he will recover with time." I smiled gently, though my own insides churned with worry.

"You're tending to James!? Where is he? Oh Peter, I must see him!" She pulled back, clumsily wiping away her tears.

"Do the masters know you're out here?" I suddenly whispered and when she shook her head, I shook my head at her. "Lu, one injured body is enough. I can't have two to tend to."

"But..."

"You'll see James soon enough."

"Oh Peter, I'm worried for him!" She pulled away completely, her eyes turning away from me. "Can I not see him now?"

"If the slave masters found out…" I shook my head, biting my lower lip and glancing around. "Lu, you better not."

"Aren't we excused if we're with James?" Her eyes suddenly snapped to mine. "Where were you this morning?"

"With James. I suppose you're right. Go ahead, he's in that cabin."

"Oh thank you, Peter!" She hugged my waist and then sprinted to where I had pointed her.

I could only chuckle, turning and walking in the other direction. I was easily recognized as the slave from the field and no one bothered to stop me, only passed by me and continued their business. When I finally did reach the cabin of the slave masters, I jogged up the steps, my shoulders slumping forward and taking on a submissive form. They glanced at me when I entered the building, my eyes shooting downwards.

"What is it you want?" One snarled to my left, a hand going out to strike me on my cheek.

"The king's servant needs tending to." I dared a glance to the one in front of me. "He needs bandages."

"Ah, you're the field slave." He whispered, standing to his feet and making his way over to a desk. He pulled out a few bandages, dirty and rotten, and handed them to me. "Clean him up well, the last thing we need is a complaint from the king."

"Yes, sir."

The owner to my left stood up, his hand going to my chin and lifting it up. "I think this one here is mine. I purchased him in Calmorne…yes, yes, he's mine."

Several snorted, one even standing to his feet and gesturing widely with his hands. "You think every slave that walks through that door is yours."

"I purchased a good number of them, I'll have you know." His breath smelled of spice and liquor, and I pulled away, my nose scrunching in disgust. "I remember this one for his beauty!"

"Fine thing indeed, fine thing indeed." They mumbled and I trembled with fear. Never good when they call you beautiful. It always led to something worse.

"But he's a half-breed!" I felt spit land on my chest and I snarled, my head snapping in his direction.

A slap was delivered to my left cheek and I whimpered.

"Release him; he needs to tend to the servant." A sensible one spoke up.

"Wouldn't want to keep him from his lover for too long." I recognized the voice of James' opponent, the one that had beat him on the field, striking him down without mercy and I snarled.

"Is that true, boy? You sleeping with the king's servant?"

"Probably is, the little whore."

"Hush now, send him back."

I pulled away from the foul breath of the man next to me, squeezing the bandage in my hand and making my way out the door, their laughter filling my ears. I didn't know how, or when, these rumors had gotten started, but they confused me. I chose to ignore them once more, and jogged towards James' cabin. I was outside the door when I heard my sister's soft voice and James' ragged breathing.

I opened the door, it banging closed behind me. Lucy jumped and looked up at me, her sigh of relief filling the silent room. "Peter! Peter, please hurry! He's losing so much blood!'

I furrowed my eyebrows, kneeling down next to his bed. "James?"

"Exaggerating, I swear." He smirked, his bruised eyes not even cracking open. "It's barely anything. Just painful."

I smirked. Of course James would be fighting even when he was injured. "Lucy has every right to worry. You look to be severely injured."

"Looks and feelings are completely different subjects, my friends. Unbutton my shirt; I'll take care of the rest." He ordered, his eyes fluttering open to look at me.

I raised an eyebrow, but nodded and went to unbuttoning his shirt. My fingers were clumsy and awkward, sliding over the slick material. I was half-way done, when I was suddenly aware of his intense gaze on my face. I looked up to him, his face on my eyes. I blushed, finishing my unbuttoning and sitting back as he sat up. Lucy's face scrunched in worry as he gasped in pain, his cuts openly bleeding.

"I hate whippings. Honestly." He ran a finger over the cut on his stomach, hissing the entire time. "Dreadful…"

"It's not your first time receiving them." I mumbled, the words coming out as a statement instead of a question.

He glanced up at me, his eyebrows gathering together. "What? How…how did you know that?"

"Swimming today…I saw the scars on your back." He looked troubled for a minute, before turning his attention back to his wounds. I took that as a sign to continue. "You were a slave once?"

"Yes…in a way I was." He muttered, gesturing for the bandages which I handed him. "Not like you though."

That caught Lucy and me's attention, both glancing at each other, before staring at him. "What?"

"I was a slave by choice." He closed his eyes, wrapping the bandage (which was a struggle) around his defined abdomen, hissing in pain the entire time.

"By choice?" I watched as Lucy reached over, helping him finish wrapping his stomach (where a good number of the cuts were located).

"Yes, yes. It was a consequence of my actions." He turned to look at me. "Can we not talk about this, please?"

I nodded, biting my lip as I watched him struggle to lie back down. "Lucy, fetch him some water from the well."

She did so, her swift feet scurrying out the door and down the steps. I waited till she was gone and then turned back to James, concern shining bright in my eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, stop sounding like my sister, Peter." He laughed, wincing somewhat in pain.

"Your sister frets over you?" I smirked, moving back so my back rested against the side of the other bed.

"Like a mother. It's absolutely awful. I was once le-helping to lead a campaign up north and a winter storm came in. We were all stranded and by the time they found us, we were all half-frozen and starving. Well anyway, I caught this awful sickness and was bedridden for weeks." He chuckled at the memory. "Su-my sister never left my bedside and she demanded I drink my fluids and eat my vegetables. Like a mother."

I smiled, my hands folding in front of me. "You led a campaign?"

"Helped to lead one, yes."

"What was it for?"

"The Free Narnians." He scowled. "They were pillaging villages and causing a riot. We went up there to resolve the issue."

"Free Narnians?"

"Those against our new rulers." He closed his eyes, his breathing now calm. "Don't think they're worthy to rule."

"From what I've heard, the king and queen have led us to peace." I set my jaw in concentration. "Why would they be against them?"

"Well they're mostly against King Edmund, not Queen Susan." He suddenly turned his eyes toward me, locking onto mine and staring intensely. I was almost…afraid of his intense gaze. "After all…who would want a traitor as their king?"

I suddenly remembered his hip, and sure enough, it was there when I glanced at it. "Your hip…"

He closed his eyes, his mouth going slack again. "It's nothing..a suffering taken for our traitor king. Though he truly deserved it."

"That's a rather rude remark, James."

"It is the truth." He turned back to look at the ceiling. "You may stay here today if you please."

"The slave ma-"

He laughed, his eyes turning to me. "Have you not learned that they bow to me and not the other way around? You are excused as long as you are with me."

I smiled, relief flooding my system. "Then I wish you would never leave."

He smiled almost sadly at that. "I must leave soon, Peter."

"What? Why?"

"We're returning to Cair with Chec and a few other masters to discuss the treaty with the Table of the Lion."

"Are you on the Table?"

"Yes. I am an advisor of the king."

I sat back again, my eyes slipping shut. "Do you have to use words like 'thee', 'thou', and 'thy'?"

He scowled heavily, his mouth working into a frown. "Unfortunately."

"Do you take classes there?"

"Yes. History, literature, mathematics, language, etiquette, archery, armory…" He listed them off on his fingers, his frown deepening with every word.

"You're very fortunate, you know." I suddenly mumbled. "To be able to have that kind of education."

"I suppose."

"Really, you are. I wish I knew how toread."

"Well, when you're freed, I will teach you myself." He smiled, his eyes turning to mine again. "I have talked all this time, answered all your questions, yet I know nothing about you."

"We'll get to me later. Your stories are far too fascinating." I cocked my head to the side, crossing my ankles. "Battles. Have you been to any battles?"

He laughed shortly, his smile lighting the room. "I have fought hundreds of battles, my dear friend."

"Well, um, which was the most difficult?"

"Definitely the battle against the Giants."

"What happened?"

"Well, it's a rather long story."

"I have time." I smirked, holding my hands up. "Remember, I'm excused as long as I'm with you."

"Well…it was two years ago, sixteenth night after my birthday, when we heard of the Giants invasion on our borders. King Edmund was troubled by this, afraid that they would cause damage and wreckage to our villages, so he saw to it that it was dealt with immediately. An army was needed and so I-Edmund sent a servant west to gather an army. When the servant returned, he brought dire news. The Giants had already destroyed in an entire village on their way south, and many lives had been lost. The situation was suddenly much more urgent than any of us had come to imagine. We set out, the army and us, north, hoping to intercept the Giants. However, some Black Dwarfs had sided with the Giants and attacked us when we weren't prepared. They took out several of our knights and we were forced to flee.

"Unfortunately, we fled right into the midst of the Giants themselves. We fought valiantly, but were forced to retreat not soon after. King Edmund and I were trapped with several Giants surrounding us. I was able to get an arrow into one's heart, and as you know, Giants are not terribly intelligent, they gathered around his dead body, granting the king and I enough time to escape. We scaled the cliff side, until one got hold of my ankle and pulled me down. My head hit a rock, and I received a minor concussion, but I knew it was dying like this or die fighting. I picked the latter, and stood to my feet and grabbed my sword. I took down three, before I blacked out from blood loss. I had broken eighteen bones, strained thirteen muscles, and lost a good amount of blood, but I made it out alive.

"Moral of the story, don't fight Giants." He finished, his breath calm.

I sat in shock for a minute, my jaw slack. He smiled at me, and I just opened and closed my mouth for several seconds. When I finally regained my breath, I breathed the word, "Impossible.".

He smirked, "One would think."

A moment of silence passed, before he spoke again.

"Anything else?"

"The king." I tore my eyes away from him. "What is the story behind his treason? You mentioned he was a traitor."

"Ah yes." He looked saddened for a minute. "He served the White Witch, that's it."

"But why? Isn't she evil?"

"He didn't know at the time, but he probably still would have done it, knowing him."

I frowned. "So he betrayed Narnia?"

He opened his mouth to reply, before shutting it quickly as Lucy jogged into the room. "Peter!"

She clumsily handed James a jug of water, her face glowing radiantly as she threw her arms around me. "The king has granted us three meals a day! And even more, he told us we should be freed within a week!"

James choked on his water, coughing as he sat forward. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, "A week!?"

"That's what the king announced." Her smile turned into a frown. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Lucy." He gritted his teeth. "Our king is a fool."

"James, you must not say such a thing about our king!" She scolded him and my lip twitched into a smirk.

"She's right, James." A young boy's voice called. "There is no use in insulting Aslan's rulers."

We turned to see the King of Narnia and his guards standing in the doorway.

"There is no use making promises you can't keep." James hissed.

Edmund frowned, moving past me to stand by James' bed. James struggled to his feet, wincing in pain, before stretching to his full height. He towered over the king by at least four or five inches. He smirked as the king cowered away.

I swallowed thickly, unsure of what was going on. James suddenly grit his teeth, bending down to whisper in the king's ear. I didn't hear or understand what he said, but the king look frightened.

James pulled away, calling for me and I clumsily followed him, Lucy behind me. We were still unsure of what we had just witnessed when we stumbled into the stables.

My sister stood stock still, he mouth open as he saddled his horse. He turned to smirk at her. "Have you ever been to the village, Lucy?"'

"No. No, I haven't." She stammered.

"What do you think about visiting it?" He smiled as both of us froze in place. "You can ride with Peter. Peter, you can take Philip again."

My face split into a smile and I tugged Lucy's hand towards the stall door. She immediately threw her arms around the chestnut's neck and Philip chuckled.

"Oh Peter, he reminds me of Joshua!" She turned to look at me and smiled. "Joshua had a lighter coat though, it was almost gold!"

I smirked, until I saw James' face, he had gone chalk-white in the face and his eyes distant.

"James?"

He shook his head, smiling at me. He helped Lucy saddle Philip, before holding the horse still as I swung up onto his back. He lifted Lucy up behind me, her arms winding around my waist.

James walked back to his black stallion, swinging up onto the fiery dumb animal. He gently kicked the horse, sending it into a canter.

"He's quite handsome." Lucy whispered as he rode out the door.

"Lu, you're too young to be thinking of him like that." I scolded, kicking our own horse into a canter.

"I know, I know, but it makes me wonder," She glanced up to where he rode ahead of us, "if he has anyone..."

I smirked, my own curiosity setting in. I couldn't help but notice the slaves' tired expressions as they looked up at Lucy and me. I had been one of them two days ago, hopeless, depressed, and tired. I suddenly felt unworthy, pulling my horse to a trot then a walk. Slave masters glared at me, their eyes clouding over in rage. James slowed his horse, turning to look at me over his shoulder.

"Peter, what's the matter?" Lucy whispered from behind me.

I felt my throat constrict. Here I was, happy, hopeful, and rested. They were suffering. I was supposed to be suffering with them. Several of the slaves just turned their dead eyes back to the field, and suddenly I couldn't breathe.

"Peter, please." Lucy whimpered. "I want to go to the village. Just once!"

I nodded, sending one more sympathy look to the slaves before signaling the horse forward. I came up to ride alongside James, ignoring his concerned eyes. He cantered ahead of us, his dark hair blowing in the wind.

The trees started to lessen and soon the dirt trail turned to dust, and spread out into an open area. Voices and bounced through the area. The market was teeming with happiness, carefree attitudes, and life.

"Hello! Hello! You want necklaces! I sell for very little!" A dryad called towards a young faun, gesturing widely with her hands.

"Bread! Freshly baked bread! Very good, very cheap!" A dwarf cried.

Lucy smiled, waving to people as we passed them.

"Oi! King Edmund!" An owl fluttered down to where James rode ahead of us. "Oi! Gather everyone, it's King Edmund himself! Come from Cair Paravel, he has! Gather around! Gather around!"

"No, no." James laughed. "I am not your king, I am his bodyguard. I'm sorry for the confusion."

"No, no. Some joker you are, King Edmund!" A squirrel cried, his tiny fist pumping into the air. "Joy, joy! The king brings laughter to us!"

"No, my name is James." He scowled. "There are no similarities between him and I."

"King's servant?" A small faun in the corner spoke.

"Yes."

"Hurray! The king's servant is here!" A gruff man mumbled. "We should bow down to him, yes?"

"No bowing is necessary, my dear friend. I come as a commoner."

"A king's servant is no commoner."

"I am." He swung down from his horse, leading him over to me before taking the lead of Philip.

I swung down, helping Lucy from the saddle. She immediately tugged my hand towards a stand. Everyone chuckled, returning to their stands and laughing as my sister touched everything there was to touch. Her joy spread throughout the market, and I couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm.

"Enjoying yourself, Peter?"

I turned to look at James, my mouth twitching into a smile. "Thank you for bringing us here, James."

"Yes, yes. Have you taken the time to look over the swords?" He gestured to a stand behind me. "They are of high quality. Fine blacksmith..."

I turned to look at the row of swords, hanging from an iron holder, running my hand over each of the handles. "They are quite lovely."

One caught my attention and I pulled it off the rack, twisting it in my hand. It was of heavy metal, requiring a good amount of arm strength to hold it, and its handle was woven of gold and silver. Aslan's name was engraved into the side of it. My eyes scanned it again and I smiled. "This sword is lovely."

"Bastard sword from Archenland." The seller leaned forward, elbows resting on the table he had set up. "I'll lower the price, seeing as how you are the servant's friend."

"I can't…I'm sorry." I very carefully set it back in its place.

"How much?" I heard James ask.

I whirled around on him, my hand going to grip his arm. "James…I can't have a sword…I don't even know how to use one."

"I'll teach you." He mumbled, his hand going to the inside of his tunic.

"Three forty, no lower." The seller pulled the sword down from where I had hung it.

"Three ten, no higher." James pulled out a few coins. "Peter, pick a scabbard."

"You're joking." I mumbled. "James, you are not buying me a sword."

"I believe I am, pick a scabbard."

"No."

"Pick a scabbard or I kill myself."

"You wouldn't do that."

"I would."

"Prove it."

"Pick the scabbard and I'll kill myself with your new sword."

"Kill yourself with your own sword."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I like my swords. Now, pick one."

I frowned, my arm going to point at a leather scabbard with gold lining. "That one."

James nodded, purchasing the scabbard and sword. The sword was handed over in its sheath and I stared at it awkwardly in James' hands. He handed it to me, watching as I awkwardly hung it around my waist. The weight felt foreign against my hip, and the sword's scabbard banged against my left leg. I toyed with it while we walked over to Lucy, still feeling strange with it.

"You'll get use to it." James smirked, watching as I messed with it.

I looked up to the twin swords hanging at his hip, and I frowned. "I don't think so. I can't use this anywhere, nor can I carry it around."

After another hour or so of just looking around, James bought a small wooden charm necklace for Lucy. On the charm was an engraved picture of Aslan's face, jaw open in an eternal roar. I felt the weight in the fold of my trousers, the weight of the medallion James had given me. The weight against my hip was still foreign, but I chose to ignore it for the meantime.

"Thank you so much, James!" Her small arms wrapped around his figure, clutching his waist happily.

"You're quite welcome, my dear friend." James whispered happily, his own arms winding around her.

"The sun is setting." I observed, turning my blue eyes back to James. "We should be getting back or we'll miss the meal."

"Good idea."

We mounted our horses again, turning and riding back towards our personal hell. I felt the happiness once again leave me and I slumped slightly.

"Peter…something's wrong." Lucy whispered. "The air is…frightening."

"What are you talking of, Lucy?"

My question was in no need of being answered though, for the second I stepped back into the slave camp, all my questions were answered. Women sobbed brokenly, hugging their loved ones. Children were trembling with fear and slave masters themselves look frightened. I dismounted in a hurry, leaving Lucy to the horse as I jogged to a trembling child. I heard James behind me, his breath quickening.

"What's wrong? What has happened?" I asked, pulling the child's head into my neck.

The young girl sobbed, her shaky hands clutching my sides. "They're making us fight!"

"Fight in what?"

"Dear child, please explain." James knelt down next to us, his eyes flashing concern.

"The king…Chec…they have declared war against each other. All slaves are required to fight."

The air around me froze and I turned to look at James, trembling in fear of what I would find. He stared, open-mouthed, at the child. His eyes turned to look at me and they clouded over instantly.

"I can't…I won't…I can't…fight you." He stammered, standing to his feet. "The fool!"

"Excuse me." I gently patted the child on the back, before standing to my feet. "We won't fight each other, will we? The king…he…he won't make us do that."

James didn't reply, but turned briskly on his heel and stormed towards one of the cabins. I looked back at Lucy and saw the soft tears that poured down her cheeks. "Oh, Lu."

She dropped the lead of Philip and James' horse, stumbling over to me and wrapping her arms around my waist. "Why? Why would the king do such a horrible thing?"

I didn't answer. I didn't know how. I couldn't fight James. Not after all he had done for me. I couldn't do it. I wasn't…I couldn't…I wasn't able to.

_"You fool! Aliken, you dumb animal!" Edmund screamed, his hand curling into a fist at his side._

_Aliken jumped, turning around and holding his hands up. "Your Majesty, Chec decl-" _

_"I don't care what that scum said or did! You were supposed to stand up against him! Our country cannot afford a war, especially against our own people! I will not fight the people I am freeing! You are a fool!" _

_"Your Majesty, Al-" Rackel tried, his hand raising up in peace. _

_"Silence! I will not fight these people! You were supposed to consult things with me before deciding! How could you be so stupid, __Aliken!?" He sat down on the bed, digging his fingers into his temples. "You dumb, dumb, dumb fool."_

_"King Edmund, I'm sorry. I can't undo it!" The decoy fell upon his knees, hands above him in a silent request for grace and mercy. "Please forgive me!"_

_"I can't…I won't fight Peter!" He hissed, his mouth snapping shut when he realized what he had said. _

_"Peter, sir?" Rackel raised an eyebrow, his eyes still cast on the decoy at the king's feet._

_"A friend…" He mumbled, before looking at his feet. "Rise, Aliken. Send word back to Queen Susan about the war. Have her gather the army and set out west four days from now. Aliken, you will stay here and try to convince Chec otherwise, we take our leave in two days time. Do you understand?"_

_"Yes, your Majesty."_

_"Aslan, help me." He whispered. "I am at a loss at what to do. Please, help me." _

* * *

**A/N: Review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And remember message me if you know any good AUs! And also some people have had some confusion on each chapter, so at the end of each chapter is a summery. Read it if you don't understand something:**

**Summery:**

**Previously injured James (Edmund) tells stories to Peter of his times in Narnia. Notices he alters each story to fit his alter ego, James. The 'king' (Aliken) announces (while Peter is w/ Edmund) that all the slaves will be freed within a week. Enraged, James (Edmund) whispers something inaudible into Aliken's ear. (Edmund is upset becaue a week is not enough time to free hundreds of slaves and so he is angry at Aliken for giving the slaves false hope). To clear his mind, Edmund takes Peter and Lucy to the village market, where he purchases a sword for Peter and a necklace (similar to his medallion) for Lucy. The sun starts to set and Peter is worried they will miss dinner (the one meal they are served) so they set back to the camp. Upon arriving, they find everyone struck with fear at fighting in the war. Peter and Edmund realize that this means they must fight, possibly kill, one another. Filled with blind fury, Edmund hurries to see his decoy, screaming at him in anger for making such a move without consulting him. After yelling at him, Edmund angrily declares "I will not fight Peter!". At this point, Edmund (as well as the audience) starts to see just how much he cares for Peter. He finally comes to accept what has happened and takes action.**

**At the end he prays to Aslan because he is torn. War is the only answer, yet it means killing those he is trying to free and possibly his future lover. **


	5. Your lips are venemous poison

I continued it :) I hope you like it :)

_Your cruel device  
your blood, like ice  
One look, could kill  
My pain, your thrill...  
--Poison by Groove Coverage_

* * *

Freedom wasn't supposed to feel so bitter.

I leaned against the stable door, unsure of what to do with myself. Everything seemed so cold and dark now, and I couldn't help but shiver. I wrapped my arms around myself, the friction providing some warmth for my trembling body. I heard heavy footsteps, and glanced up. There in the doorway stood James, his face downcast and worn, a thick black cloak draped over his body.

"Did you talk to him?" I whispered, quickly unwrapping my arms.

"Yes." He muttered and came to stand by me. "We're leaving soon."

My heart stopped and I shook my head quickly, my arms wrapping around myself again as a new form of cold shook my body. He pulled the cloak off his body and handed it to me quietly. I refused at first, but he was persistent and I gladly wrapped it around my trembling form. I looked at him once more, scared of what I'd find.

"Why"

"It's just something that has to happen." He chewed on his lower lip, his hand against his right bicep. His head suddenly snapped up, eyes almost too intense. "I won't fight you, Peter."

I swallowed, looking down at the sword that still clung to my side, no masters having said anything yet. I glanced back up at him, tears gathering at the corner of my eyes. "What if it's necessary? What if my death was the price for the freedom of all the slaves here Would you kill me then?"

He opened his mouth to speak, before sliding down to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest. He had never looked so small, so young, yet so old, so naive, yet so wise. He shook and I slid down the wall to sit beside him, unwrapping one side of the cloak for me, gently pulling it over his shoulder. He leaned back against my arm and I tensed, but quickly relaxed. I heard him start to cry, his body shaking against mine. My hand pressed against his bicep gently, his head falling against my shoulder.

"I cant...I can't..." He whispered. "I won't...I can't..."

I had always thought of my life as difficult, harder than most, but I knew differently now. I held the boy-man to my side, and I knew. He was too young, too young for this amount of pressure and responsibility. Too young to see so much hurt, so many deaths, so much sorrow and now they were forcing him to pick between the freedom of thousands or the survival of one friend. He was stronger than I could have ever been and I admired him.

I sighed gently. "I respect you, you know?"

He lifted his head from my shoulder, confusion written in his features. "Why? What have I done to gain your respect?"

"Everything. You're stronger than any man I've ever met." I whispered and his head fell back against my shoulder.

"I can't...kill you. I'm not strong enough to do such a thing. I'd rather die myself."

"Sometimes we must make sacrifices." I whispered, my fingers rubbing gentle circles into his toned arm.

"Aslan, why" He whispered brokenly to himself. "Aslan, please, I need you."

He broke into full blown sobs, his entire body wracking heavily against me, and I couldn't help, but pull him closer, his face in the crook of my neck. I pulled the cloak tighter around us, shielding us from the cold. As I heard his cries, a few tears leaked from my own eyes, dripping down my dirty cheeks. He shook heavily against me, his tears soaking my shirt. I glared out of the stable towards the slave masters' building. Just when I found my world, they had taken him, broke him, and tore out his heart. In his place was a broken man, barely old enough to know the darkness of this world. I held the broken James to my body and gently whispered, "It's okay, it's okay."

I fell silent after a few minutes, gently leaning my head against his. His sobbing slowed after a minute, breathing calming, and he clutched at my chest, but I didn't move away this time. I waited until he spoke, straining to hear the inaudible whispers.

"...I killed my brother..." I gasped when he confessed it, but he continued anyway. "I remember his face...begging me for mercy and I..I..I had never felt so powerful as I had then...I remember the thrill...the thrill that I had killed my own blood and now his blood was on my hands...that I would never have to live up to John's expectations...because now I was better...he had fallen to _my_ sword...now...now, I look back on that day and...I hate...I hate myself. I wish he had killed me."

I tensed against him, fingers freezing in the gentle caress. "W-what?"

"...I can't...I can't do that again. I won't kill you, Peter...I can't do that again..."

"Why...why did you kill him?"

He let out a shaky sigh, his body trembling against me again. "I...I...I thought I could be better. I was tired of..being in his shadow...being the failure....," a long pause, "...my sister tried to stop me...and I was so angry. She grabbed my wrists...but I pushed her away...and then I struck down my brother...and she ran at me..."

He stood to his feet suddenly, body still shaking with each sob, and turned his back to me, staring off into the stable. "...and pounded her fists on my chest...and I shoved her...and she fell and...and hit her head...and started to cry..."

He sobbed brokenly, back still facing me. "..and I told her to shut up...and I...I...I..turned my back when..the...witch killed her...My sibling's blood is on my hands...I won't have yours too."

I gasped when he turned back around, his normally guarded eyes open and readable. Pain, guilt, misery, depression, longing.

I stood to my feet, walking over to where he stood, my hand going out to clasp his shoulder. He stared at me for a moment, before narrowing his eyes.

"Are you afraid?" He whispered, dark eyelashes blinking.

I stood with a traitor, a murderer, and a broken man, but I wasn't afraid. "No."

He looked from my eyes to my lips, eyes clouding over. I froze, nervous, as he bent his head towards me, hair falling in front of his too dark eyes. My hand tightened on his shoulder as his breath was on my face. His eyes were still on my lips, but he hesitated a few millimeters from them. My eyes slid closed, expecting the faint brush of my first real kiss, but I felt nothing. Instead, I felt his forehead against mine, resting gently. I opened my eyes to see the tears tracing down his cheek.

"James..."

He didn't open his eyes, but the tears continued to fall. My hand left his shoulder to wrap around the base of his neck and gently pulled him forward until our lips met. He froze, but I was persistent. I didn't want him to cry anymore.

He cried into the kiss, I had never felt something so heartbreaking. His tears mixed against our lips and I could feel him shaking against me.

I pulled away gently, lips bruised and he looked at me, eyes red from crying. I dropped my hands from his neck to the collar of his tunic, praying that he wasn't mad at me. He stared at me for the longest time, before his hands went to my chest, hesitant and slow. He touched my ribcage, then my shoulder, then my bicep, then wrapping around the base of my neck, sobbing the entire time. He brought our lips back together, more forceful this time.

I backed up slightly, his body pushing against mine. My lower back hit the stall door with a bang, causing me to open my mouth in response. He titled his head, thumbs stroking my cheeks, tears slipping into our mouths. He hesitantly moved his tongue in, hands shaking slightly. I stared off into the distance, trembling as he flicked his tongue across my teeth. I moved my hands back to grip the door, fingers digging into the wood.

He _needed_ this and that's why I let him have it.

He pulled away, his lips pressing against my jaw line and traveling down to my collarbone. My fingers clenched harder as I felt a surge of heat rush through my body. He sucked on the juncture where neck and shoulder meet, turning the skin red. I groaned, tilting my head back, exposing more of my neck. He pushed against me, mouth moving over the exposed skin. His hands slid down my torso and I groaned loudly again, another surge of heat rushing through my body.

He kissed me again, short and softly, before going to my neck again. I felt him against me, half-hard and warm, and I trembled. I couldn't explain what he was doing to me, just that I never wanted it to stop. _Never._

But it did. His hands dropped from my torso, his mouth leaving my skin and he slid to the ground. Sobs wracked his body again, knees curled to his chest, hair a mess, lips bruised, and tunic wrinkled. I tried to gather my breath again, but was to no avail, and instead tried to calm my body. After a few minutes of just concentrating, I finally had myself under control and slid to the ground to join him. He looked at me, my messy hair, my own bruised lips, and the red marks covering my chest and neck.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." He whispered hoarsely. "I don't know...I don't know what happened. I'm sorry, I'm so so so sorry."

I didn't know how to tell him that I hadn't minded, because I still struggled admitting it to myself. I just stared at him, my own throat to dry. I wanted to tell him it was okay, that everything was going to be okay, but I couldn't. All I could muster was, "I forgive you."

His eyes flashed in pain and hurt, almost as if I had rejected him, but he just nodded. He waited for the last of his tears to dry before standing to his feet and walking away, not even bothering to look at me.

I leaned back against the stable door, eyes sliding closed and watching the bright images of James flash behind my eyelids. His lips against my skin, his hands touching me, everywhere at once, and his body against my own, hard and needy. I shook my head and opened my eyes, looking towards his lone figure vanishing into the distance. I cried, my heart slowly unraveling.

.............*****................*****............

I stayed the night in the stable door, James' cloak wrapped around my lean form. I didn't bother to move, not even when the slave masters begin herding slaves into the fields at the break of dawn. I just sat and stared.

And that is exactly how Lucy found me.

"Peter? Peter, what...what's wrong" I could hear her footsteps near where I was sitting and I sighed.

"Oh Peter!" She fell to her knees in front of me, hands going to touch my face gently. Her hands smooth and gentle, so unlike James' rough and calloused palms. "What has happened to you? You look absolutely dreadful."

I didn't respond, but instead, reached my hand to my mouth, tracing a finger over my lips.

My first true friend. James.

My hero. James.

My freedom. James.

My first kiss. James.

I looked to the confused Lucy, my eyebrows furrowing. My voice was shaky when I finally spoke, a blush set deep in my cheeks. "I think I'm in love with James."

She gasped, her eyes widening and she sat back on her heels. "W-what?"

I leaned forward slightly, backing her up. "I think I might be in love with James."

"H-how?"

"I don't know. I guess it just happened. I just know that I can't stop thinking bout him and when.." I knew I was talking to a ten year old about an adult matter, but I couldn't stop myself and continued to pour my heart out. "...when he's not with me, my heart feels like it's breaking."

Now I was quite use to Lucy being spontaneous with her emotions, most girls were, but I had never expected to react like this. Her face broke into a huge grin, throwing her arms around my neck and burying her nose into the crook of it. "Oh Peter! That's wonderful! James is such a wonderful man!"

I forced a laugh, gently hugging her back. "I don't think it's quite that easy, Lu."

She pulled back, grin fading. "What do you mean? He loves you too, doesn't he?"

I shook my head. "I don't think he does."

She sighed, running a hand through her oily hair. "He's leaving tomorrow morning, Pete."

"I know." I mumbled, wrapping my arms around my form.

"Tell him how you feel!" She clapped her hands together. "You have to!"

"I can't, Lu!" I shook my head quickly, wrapping my arms around my form again. "I just can't, I'm sorry."

I stood to my feet and walked out of the stable. The sun blinded me as soon as I stepped out of the stable, yells of the masters deafening me. A master shoved me in the direction of a few other slaves and I stood in line patiently. When it came to my turn, I bent down, picking up the heavy bag of coal, my back cracking slightly. Adjusting the new weight, I carried it over to the cart, which stood a good three hundred yards away or so, and dropped it in. I continued this procedure until told differently, which I never was. My back ached with the pain, my hands practically bleeding, sweat soaking my body, and I was almost positive, no I was actually sure, that I was dehydrated. I gripped the side of the cart, steadying myself for a moment.

Then I heard his voice and I turned to look at him. He stood a few feet away, talking to the king about something, his back to me, his hands gesturing widely. I swallowed hard, letting go of my grip on the cart, only to falter dangerously. The heat was too much and I emptied the contents of my stomach, which wasn't much. My body heaved again, and I wiped my hand across my lips, turning the side of my head to look at James.

Then he turned in my direction and his eyes connected with mine.

The king fell silent and I swallowed, blushing as I looked away. I could hear his footsteps nearing me and I hung my head, pressing my sweaty forehead to my arm, my breathing shallow and ragged. I felt the too cold, almost icy, touch of his hand on my back and I groaned. My eyes squeezed shut, afraid of him, though I didn't understand why.

"Aslan, Peter, what have they done to you?"

I tensed. He was the one that had messed me up, messed with my head, with my heart, not them. I blamed him and I snapped, standing up straight and ignoring the way he jumped. I looked away, struggling to find my voice. "Nothing. Go away."

"Listen, Pete, if this is about what happened last night, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

I turned back to look at the gentle slopes of his cheek, at the lips that had kissed mine, at the hands that had moved over my body. I stiffened, turning away once more. "Great."

I heard him sigh, pushing his hand through his hair. "Aslan, Pete, what's wrong with you?"

I turned around, slamming my hand into his chest, causing everyone, including James, to jump. He stumbled slightly as I curled my hand into his tunic, yanking him closer. "You're what's wrong with me."

His eyes were confused, his mouth slack, and I fought the urge to kiss him, but then I remembered who I was and who he was and I released my grip on his tunic. He reached out to me, but I flinched away. Done with his games.

"Pete..."

I ignored the calling of my heart and returned to work. Behind me, James wrapped his arms around his freezing body, watching me leave.

...........................*****..................******...................

I worked all day, avoiding the glances James would shoot me when we crossed paths. He was far too tired looking, as if he hadn't slept in years, and I had the strange urge to hold him, but I ignored it, turning it into anger.

However, no emotion could describe what I felt later that day.

We had all been gathered into the hall, the king and his two bodyguards, James and Rackel, standing at the head of the hall. The king scanned the crowd, taking in the somber faces.

"Tonight, I have gathered you here to inform you that the matters of this war will be dealt with immediately."

"You're making us fight!" A slave cried.

"Yeah, you're taking us to our death!"

"How are you suppose to free us when we are dead?1"

The king look distressed, adjusting the crown on his nervously, turning to look at James out of the corner of his eye. He sighed, looking back at the angry group of slaves. "I know that you have suffered over the years and your heart, body, and mind are tired, but I will deliver you from this. You must believe in me for I am a servant of Aslan,"

"How can you expect us to fight when we don't know how!?" A man beside me called out. I glanced at him, crossing my arms, as I leaned against the wall. Most of the room was sitting, expect for us in the back against the walls.

"I'm trying my best-" The king tried.

"You are doing nothing for us! Go back to where you came from!" Yells erupted throughout the room and I sighed. Lucy sat at my feet, leaning back against my shins. I glanced towards James, noticing the way he stared mindlessly off into space, his face screwed up in distress.

"Aslan was wrong to have appointed you!"

"Leave us alone!"

Suddenly the room was far too loud and even the king looked frightened. He glanced at James once again, earning a sigh from the older man. James stepped forward, holding his hand up. "Silence, my friends. Do not insult him, he has done nothing."

"Exactly! He has done nothing for us! He's just made things worse!"

"He is Aslan's servant." James harshly whispered back.

"Hardly!"

"Since when do we listen to you?"

James ran a hand through his messy hair, then pressed a palm to his forehead. "I am Aslan's servant."

Several of them scoffed, before one man bravely stood to his feet, gesturing widely at James. "That doesn't give you any right to be our authority! Let the king fend for himself!"

"This man is not the king!" James suddenly yelled and the room fell silent. My heart stopped, eyes widening in shock. Lucy glanced up at me, her jaw falling open as she looked towards 'King Edmund'. James took a moment to let the information sink in, before speaking again. "I am."

Gasps filled the air and I stopped breathing. It felt like the world was closing in on me, the walls of the room crumbling around me, the air much too thick for me to catch my breath. I opened and closed my mouth, trying to inhale enough oxygen to breathe properly. This man, my supposed friend, wasn't James, wasn't who I thought he had been. This entire time I had thought of him as a bodyguard, trained in the arts of defense, a broken boy with a dark past. Now, now he was a king. Not just any king, but the King of Narnia, appointed by Aslan the Great Lion himself. He was ruler over all of Narnia, Defender of the West, Guardian to the East, and Ruler of the Great Northern Sky. King Edmund the Just, legendary hero, the most skilled swordsman in the entire nation. _King_. _King Edmund._

He was staring at me, his eyes full of sorrow and apologies. I just gaped at him, before remembering that this was the King of Narnia, and shut my mouth quickly, bowing my head.

He sighed. "My deceit was necessary for my protection and I apologize if I caused anyone distress with my concealed truth. Please, my friends, do not badger me with your complaints. I am not the one that is considering putting you to war. I was unaware of the decision at the time for my decoy never consulted me with this until after it had taken place. I, however, am responsible for your lives and will follow through in my promise to protect you. Tomorrow, I return to Cair Paravel to discuss this matter the Table of the Lion. If the issue does not improve, I will deal with the consequences myself. You are my people, and I have taken a vow to protect you, even if the cost is my life. You will be safe, I will see to it."

Someone in the crowd of slaves clapped, and then the entire room joined in. Everyone, but me. Jam-Edmund must have seen me start to break for the door, because he quickly excused himself. I was out the door, before anyone could stop me, tears clouding my vision.

He had _lied _to me. He was _king_. He was _Edmund_.

I was yanked back by my arm, a gentle hand on my bicep. I curled my hand into a fist and swung a punch at my captor, but they caught my fist in their own hand. I turned to look at King Edmund, the dark eyes that used to be James. I yanked away from him, knowing I was fully unworthy of his attention.

"Pete, I can explain! Please!" He called after me and I froze in my steps, unwilling to disobey the king.

"Explain what?" I mumbled, suddenly turning on him. "That you're a king? Thanks, I already knew that. Now."

"Peter, it was necessary! It wasn't like I was lying to you!" He yanked my arm back again.

"Really? So your name really is James and you're the king's bodyguard? Is that the truth? Or are you King Edmund the Just, Ruler over all of Narnia and all of it's inhabitants?" I snarled, attempting to jerk away from him.

"Peter...please. I hated lying to you, I really did, but I had to. It was necessary for my protection!"

"I wouldn't have told anyone!" I screamed, my face much too close to his.

"I know that!" He dropped my arm, groaning in frustration. "Aslan, Peter, think you could be a little less dramatic about this?"

"Less dramatic!?" I stepped closer to him, my stormy eyes glaring into his darker ones. "Less dramatic, huh? I fell in love with a man, a good man that I thought held honesty above all else, named James, not Edmund. Not the man that just gave that grand speech in there. That's not the man I know! I don't love him!"

His eyes widened suddenly and I blushed when I realized at what I had said. His voice was soft the next time I spoke. "You're in love with me?"

I was about to nod, before I just stepped away, shaking my head. "No, you're not who I thought you were."

"So that's it Now that I'm king, you don't love me?" He was in front of me in a second. "You loved me when I was servant, but not when I'm a king?"

I shook my head, stepping out of his way.

He grounded his teeth, yanking my arm back and smashing our lips together. I jerked away, the forbidden poison still resting on my lips. He looked angered, as if he was ready to slice my head off. "What's so different about me now? I'm still me! I'm still the person that I was then! Just my name has changed!" He screamed.

I backed away from him. "You're no longer a servant, you're a king. King of Narnia."

"So!? Being king doesn't forbid me from falling in love!!"

"It forbids me!" I screamed, once again trying to jerk away as he grabbed my wrists. I turned my face away from his, avoiding the eyes of royalty. It wasn't right.

"Peter, look at me! _Look at me_!" I finally did as he said, and he held me there by my wrists. "I am king, and my name isn't James, but I'm still the person that kissed you last night. That was me. The stories I told, those are all true. I'm still me."

"And I'm still a slave." I whispered.

His grip loosened and he looked at me in confusion. "So?"

"You're a king, I'm a slave. It's wrong." I whispered again.

"And it wasn't when I was James?"

"You were a servant then."

He sighed, dropping my wrists and stepping away from me. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

"I know."

I noticed the hurt that flashed across his face and I did nothing to stop it. This wasn't James, this was Edmund. King Edmund. I wasn't exactly worthy of his attention. I dropped to my knees in front of him suddenly, bowing my head in deep respect for the legendary king before me. He sighed, shifting and removing something from his tunic. He dropped it on the ground in front of me.

"Keep this, since you love _him_ so much. It was _James'_." He spit bitterly.

I waited for his retreating footsteps before glancing at the necklace in front of me. On it hung a small rectangular metal plate. Carved into the plate was a design that looked strikingly similar to the scales of a dragon. On top of the design was a sword, shining in the sunlight. I recognized it from the market. While we had been waiting for Lucy to find a necklace, I had commented on how much it suited James. He must have bought it when I wasn't looking.

I squeezed it in the palm of my hand, letting a few tears slip out.

..........................*****......................*****................

The next day, Edmund left before I even woke up, leaving me with the sickening feeling that I would never see him again.

* * *

So??? What do you think? You like it? Review! Please! Have questions? Message me :)


	6. Can't Have You

A/N: Sad chapter coming up! In this chapter, I try to make you hate Susan! lol, but no rly I do. ANd i bet u do by the end of this chapter, well Read and Review ASAP!!!!

Warning: The plot is just going to get more and more complicated as we go, but so far here's the issues at hand that Edmund has to deal with

Peter: Edmund can't be found dead with a slave and Peter knows this, but Edmund refuses to belive it. He's in a fight w/ Peter right now too because he lied about his identy.

War: Narnia can't afford another war because their army is so small because of the number of deaths from the last one. Plus he can't fight the people he's trying to free. that contradicts itself.

ENJOY!

_

* * *

_

_Narnia was beautiful._

_White caps of the ocean tumbled onto the shore, colliding and slamming against the giant rocks, Narnians ran (some cantering, others trotting, others hobbling) towards the entrance, smiles upon their faces as they waited for their beloved king to return. Petals were thrown into the path ahead of him, disappearing under the hooves of the stallion as the king continued towards the gates. The sun shown down brightly, almost heavenly, on royalty, the gentle queen standing patiently on the steps of the grand castle. Her smile only widened as the horns were sounded, announcing the arrival of their king, and she caught glance of a dark haired man heading towards her. _

_He pushed his horse into a canter, flanked by his bodyguard and decoy. The people cheered, their laughter and joy carrying in the wind, but the queen could see that their laughter did nothing to erase the depression from the king's face and she frowned with concern. He waved a gloved hand at the crowed of citizens before dismounting and jogging up the steps towards his older sister. She threw her arms around his neck, laughing and crying at the same time, and buried her face into his chest. He picked her up gently by her waist and swung her around, before gently setting her down and pulling away to smile at her._

_"Oh dear brother, your return brings me much joy" She laughed, brushing a stray hair out of his eyes. _

_"The sight of your face brings my heart much warmth, dear sister." He smiled and she giggled, lacing their fingers together. _

_"Come inside, brother, so that you may tell me of your journey." _

_He nodded. "Wait, dear sister, I must thank those that have come to celebrate my return." _

_The crowd lapsed into silence as the king turned to face them, his eyes solemn and grave, but his face filled with joy. He cleared his throat, before raising his voice so the entire crowd could hear him. "Narnians, I thank thee for your warm greetings and welcome. Tonight, we celebrate!"_

_The crowd cheered, several petals being tossed into the air._

_"But now, I must see to my duties." He smiled one final time and turned to look at his older sister, lowering his voice to direct it to her. "We must speak immediately."_

_She nodded and pulled him inside the castle. They did not exchange words until the doors to her chamber had been closed. Edmund sighed, yanking the crown off his head and setting it on the edge of the bed. His eyes were far too worn for Susan's like and she echoed his sigh._

_"What's wrong, my beloved brother? Your face holds much sorrow." She whispered, taking a seat next to him on the bed. A gentle hand came up to caress his cheek._

_"The chamber doors are closed, Susan, you can stop with the formality. It's just annoying." He snapped, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands, fingernails digging into his temples._

_She sighed. "You're tired, perhaps you should rest." _

_He groaned, the silence of the room pounding in his head. "Have you ever not known what to do?"_

_She laughed dryly. "Everyday."_

_"No, no, but to the point where if you don't do something people will suffer and if you do do something than people will die?" He turned to look at her, his eyes fogged over in depression. "Have you ever felt like that?"_

_"What's going on, Edmund? What happened up there?" _

_"They declared war on us. They declared war against their own country. How does that even work?" He stated, exasperated with the situation. _

_"War? Edmund, we can't afford another war, we've barely recovered from the last one." _

_"Thanks, Susan, I was not aware of that." He snapped, his eyes shutting._

_"Stop with this attitude, Ed!" She raised her voice, taking on the 'mother' tone. _

_"I'm sorry…It's just…I'm so lost at what to do. I can't let my people die, but I can't let them continue to live in those conditions either." He groaned, laying back on his sister's bed. "Aslan." _

_"Are you meeting with the Table of the Lion?" She whispered, reaching down to take his boots off for him._

_He nodded, his fingers tenderly massaging his temples. "Yes, tomorrow. Chec is arriving within a few weeks to discuss the final decisions."_

_"Chec?" She pulled off his other boot._

_"The leader of the tribe. He started the slave trade up there." His voice started to drift, his breathing deepening and lengthening. _

_Susan smiled, pulling a blanket over her brother's sleeping form and kissing him gently on the forehead. She let her hand linger on his cheek, before pulling away, giving him a sad smile. "Sleep for now, my king."_

_

* * *

_

_Edmund didn't sleep well, his limbs thrashed out violently, searching for a golden body with blue eyes and finding nothing. He awoke with a start, his dark glancing around the room, but once again did not find the one thing he had been looking for._

_Peter._

_He cried out, wrapping his arms around his knees and squeezing his eyes shut. Susan clambered into the room, dropping several books on her way there. She immediately saw his face and gasped, placing the books on the nearest table and rushing to his side, pulling him into her arms. _

_"Edmund, what's wrong?" She ran a hand through the dark hair, smoothing it down. "Another nightmare?"_

_He said nothing at first, just cried softly into her hair. "I need to go back. I have to."_

_"Edmund, calm down." She whispered, gently sitting back against the headboard and pulling his head into her lap. "Tell me what's wrong."_

_"Nothing." He whispered, closing his eyes to his sister's massaging fingers. "They're suffering."_

_"That's not what's bothering you." She whispered, weaving her fingers through his bangs and then combing them out. "Tell me, Edmund, I just want to help."_

_"I c-can't." _

_"Edmund!"_

_"What, Susan!? Do you want me to tell you that I fell in love with someone while I was there? Why is it so important!?" He suddenly sat up, turning to face in a burst of anger, before dropping back into her lap. "Aslan, you're infuriating."_

_"And someone hasn't been getting enough sleep." She mumbled back, returning to massaging his temples. "What are you talking about?" _

_Edmund pushed a hand through his hair, sighing. "I fell in love with a slave."_

_Susan sat up a little quicker. "What!?"_

_"Oh shut up, Su. He's a-" His mouth snapped shut when he realized what he had just revealed._

_"He!?" _

_Edmund already knew he had blown it now. He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his knees. He sighed as Susan sat up, her eyes still wide in shock, showing a hint of disappointment. She rested her hand on his bicep, her mouth wide open. _

_"You're telling me that you fell in love with a male slave?" She whispered breathlessly._

_Edmund just looked towards his dark eyed sister and gave a weak nod, pressing his chin to his knees and squeezing his eyes shut._

_"Edmund, you c-can't. You're king." _

_"Thanks, I was not aware of that."_

_Susan took a shaky sigh. "W-what about Princess Alera?"_

_"What about here?"_

_"You were arranged to marry her next year!"_

_Edmund gave a dry laugh, the sound raw in his throat. "Maybe I want to marry someone I actually love."_

_"We're not in England anymore, Ed. It's not about love here, it's about power. Marrying the princess gives us an automatic alliance with Calormen."_

_"Sure, sure, I'll take her as my wife, but I won't love her as a wife." He glanced to Susan, his eyes dark. "Do you really want that for her?"_

_"You're thick-headed, brother. You cannot and will not love another man. Now go and wash up for the celebration." She stood to her feet, ushering him off of her bed._

_He sighed, standing and making his way towards the door before pausing with his hand resting on the handle. "You can't take my love for him away. Nothing you say or do will stop me from loving him." _

_"No, I cannot stop your heart from loving him, but I can take the power to see him away and I will do so."_

_"I am High King, Susan, you bow to me." He growled, his eyes flashing angrily._

_"And I am High Queen and your older sister, you will listen to me." _

_Edmund turned back to look at her, his eyes searching her as his eyebrows knit together. "You are forbidding me from loving him?"_

_"Yes. My brother will not be a disgrace to this country." _

_Edmund gave another short, dry laugh, his eyes flashing hurt. "I've always been a disgrace to this country, Susan, this would be no different."_

_She opened her mouth to ridicule him as he turned to leave, but thought differently and closed it. She sighed as the door clicked behind him, sinking into her mattress. "Aslan, help him."_

_

* * *

_

_"Announcing your king, Watcher of the Clear Northern Sky, High King of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of __Cair Paravel__, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, Duke of Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March, and Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, His majesty High King Edmund the Just and his royal sister High Queen Susan the Gentle, Watcher of the Radiant Southern Sun and Advisor of the King's table."_

_Edmund should have gave a grand speech, should have made the crowd cheer for his return, but he did nothing and instead motioned for the crowd to be silent as he gave a small, very short speech._

_"Greetings, my friends. Tonight, we celebrate in Aslan's name." _

_Susan looked at him with disappointment as he turned away, finished with his speech. The crowd was silent for a minute before slowly breaking into an applause. The young king sunk into his throne, his eyes far too distant and haunted for the crowd's liking. The crowd scattered, some dancing and others chatting in the corners of the room. Edmund did nothing, just stared blankly forward. Then, a flash of blonde appeared out of the corner of his eye and his head snapped to the side. A young lady was gently making her way up the steps towards his throne, her blonde hair glistening and her blue eyes piercing through his soul. His heart beat dully and he smiled sadly as she bowed before him._

_"King Edmund, I am humbled to be in your presence."_

_"Rise, my lady." She did so. "Do you wish to discuss something?"_

_"Yes, my king, I know this is untimely, but my father has sent me to you."_

_"For a courtship?"_

_A look of shock crossed her face and she looked taken back. "Yes, your Majesty."_

_"Tell your father I am not accepting courtships at this time."_

_"Oh?" She looked confused for a moment. "May I ask why, my fair king?"_

_"I have already given my heart to another."_

_"Oh. Well, I bid you good luck."_

_"Thank you."_

_She curtsied to him and fled from his presence. The next thing he knew, a fuming Susan was directly in front of his face, her fists clenching by her sides. "Do you even know what that is, brother?"_

_"What?" He arched, surprised by her angry aura._

_"That was the princess of Archenland!" She hissed. "Do you even know how desperately an alliance is needed with them? You have ruined it for us! For Narnia!"_

_"I will not marry a woman I do not love. My heart belongs to Peter." He mumbled, standing and walking over to the refreshments, pouring himself a glass of wine._

_"Oh forget Peter for Aslan's sake, Edmund." He tossed her a hurt look, but she ignored him. "You are being incredibly selfish!" _

_"Selfish!? I'm not the one that's power hungry, Susan!" He spit back at her, the glass fogging underneath his hot grip. _

_"Love has made you unintelligent." She mumbled, turning her back to him. "You have gone mad."_

_"Perhaps I have." _

_That was it. She felt anger scream through her body, threatening to explode at any moment. She turned on him and spit the words she knew would hurt him the most. "He doesn't love you, Edmund!"_

_His eyes went blank and then angry and then hurt. "You don't know that."_

_"Your guard witnessed your fight with him. He informed me of what was said." She whispered gently. "Peter said he didn't love you, even after you kissed him. I'm sorry, Edmund, but there is no use in wasting your time with unrequited love."_

_He just stared at him for a minute, before setting his goblet down and breaking away from the celebration. She watched him retreat to his chambers and sighed, slapping herself in the forehead. "Aslan, Susan, did you have to hurt him?" _

_Yes. Yes, you did._

_

* * *

_

_"Council of Cair Paravel, Table of the Lion, Advisors of the king," The announcer bellowed, his voice carrying through the room, "all rise for the King of Narnia, Edmund the Just." _

_Edmund watched as everyone, including his sister, rose from their seats and bowed their heads. He came to stand at the head of the table, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat, before motioning for them to take a seat._

_"My loyal advisors, my faithful servants, I come to you with grave news. After our previous meeting, I took four of our most trained men up west with me in order to inspect the situation there. Upon arriving, my heart was greatly saddened by the state in which most of these slaves lived. All that the duke had said to me was proven true. The people there are desperate for our actions and rely on us for their deliverance. I have promised them their freedom and I have every intention to keep my promise, no matter what the cost may be. However, one obstacle stands in my way, in our way. Chec, the leader of the tribe and founder of the slave trade, has declared war upon us. I understand that we are still recovering from the trade war, and are unable to fight another, but that does not mean I will sit by and watch my people suffer and die. So, my dear advisors and friends, I come to you with a heavy heart and troubled mind, for I am lost at what action to take. Please grant me your wisdom and I shall listen."_

_The room was silent for a minute, before the oldest advisor spoke. "Well, your Majesty, it seems we have ourselves in quite a predicament. Though rest assured, our army is strong enough to battle a few slave owners."_

_"That is where another issue arises. Chec has declared that all slaves will be forced to participate in battle."_

_"What? How can they do this?" The youngest, three to his right, raised his voice. _

_"He owns them. They are his people." Susan offered._

_"No so, they are participating in illegal activities!" Another advisor put in._

_"If it was that simple, don't you think King Edmund would have arrested and beheaded them by now?" The oldest argued._

_""Why haven't you done so, King Edmund?" The youngest asked curiously._

_"I have spoken to Chec about the matters at hand and his illegal actions, and by doing so, it has been revealed to me that Chec and his men are not of our land. They are from a tribe in Western Archenland and have migrated to Narnia to escape the hostility of Hypercrava tribe. They were unaware that they had entered Narnian borders."_

_"Force them to leave!" A young, fiery, naïve advisor declared, his tiny fist pumping into the air._

_"They bluntly refused, my dear friend, claiming that they live by Archenlander laws and not Narnia's, and because they were unaware of the borders, the laws should not apply to them and we have no right to remove their property from them." _

_"Off with their heads!" The young one cheered again. _

_"Silence, young one, we must be cautious with our actions." The oldest one silenced the younger, and then turned his grave face to the king. "Bring Chec to us, he will stand trial." _

* * *

To say I missed him would be an understatement.

I missed his warm smile and dark eyes, the gentle, calloused hands against my face. I missed all of those things and yet, I had given them up as if they were nothing. I had told him I didn't love him, even after he had confessed his own love for me. _I _had pushed_ him_ away and now _I_ was _alone_.

Now, I didn't even know if I would ever see him again.

My back ached from plowing the fields and the blisters had once again developed on the palms of my hands. The sun was low in the sky, the humidity crippling and the wind non-existent. I bent to lift another log, the slave opposite of me doing the same. Together, we carried it to the half-finished log cabin. We were expected to finish this by the end of the day, but I doubted that would even happen.

"_I want nothing of you. I just want your trust_."

Yet, he had lied to me and demanded I still love him. I could not love a liar, no, even I was above that. However, he was king, and I wasn't above that. I had longed to tell him to stay with me, to never leave me, but I had only watched as he had left.

Now he was gone.

I stumbled as a owner pushed him towards the logs, mumbling about 'slacking off'. I shot him a glare, my eyes narrowing at him.

Jam-Edmund had been gone for three weeks now and I had become known as the king's whore. I, at first, had told them I had never slept with the king, never dreamed of doing such a thing, but they had sneered at my face and poked at my ribs. I had given up and by doing so; I apparently had confirmed their suspicions. So now, I was treated differently than the rest of the slaves, including more beatings and jeering and teasing and so on.

"You, filthy whore, get over here!" A slave master, one of the higher ones, yelled.

Like that. Always the filthy whore.

I stumbled over to them, my feet too sore and tired to walk correctly. They yanked at my shoulders, pulling me against them and laughing as I struggled.

"Listen, you dirty slut, we got some good news for you." The tallest one shoved me towards the bulkier one. "Tie his hands together and we'll pull him behind us."

"Yeah, tie him up!" Another laughed, leaving me confused. "You're one lucky slut, you know?"

They yanked me away from the curious slaves and pulled me towards the stable. My hands were held cruelly behind my back and I snarled, earning another chuckle from the bulky man.

"He looks confused, Hailic." Another sneered at me.

My face was pressed against the wall, my bare chest rubbing against the splintered wood, cutting into my skin. I felt a rope wrap around my wrists, rubbing them raw, yet I stood still in confusion.

"Tell the slut." One hit me and another came up to whisper in my ear.

"You get to see your king again. Won't you like that?"

My heart stopped beating for a fraction of a section, my mouth opening in shock. What? I got to see him again. I was going to see Edmund again! I would finally feel his warm embrace and calloused hands, hear his silky voice and see his dark eyes and warm smile.

But why?

"Beat him. He's going to have to be in bad shape for the king to even consider surrendering." The tallest one hissed, his fist banging against my shoulder blade. "But don't kill him; he is no use to us dead."

_Surrender!? What!?_

I pushed away from the wall, my eyes going wide. No, Edmund!! Surrendering meant slavery would continue…just for my freedom. I wasn't going to let Edmund even make such a stupid decision.

My fight was short though, I felt a fist against my temple and everything went black.

* * *

The next thing I knew was the sound of rain, beating steadily against my forehead and eyelids. I blinked them open, lifting my heavy head to peer out at my surroundings. My temple throbbed and my eyelids felt far too heavy. A small part of me wondered how long I had been unconscious, while a larger part of me didn't care. I just wanted to know where I was.

"We are not trespassing!" I heard one of the masters declare with frustrations.

I sat up, my eyes adjusting to the dim light and dark clouds of the sky. The rain continued to pour down on me, but I paid little attention to it. To my right stood Chec and two other masters, and in front of them was a large bird-like creature (I imagine it was a gryphon), his beak pointed towards the sky.

"Explain your business here or I will send the guard to arrest you." The gryphon replied calmly.

"We are on our way to visit the High King of Narnia. If this is how you treat all of your visitors, I can see why there are so many rebels in Narnia." Chec hissed, rolling his eyes.

"Hmm, what is your name?" The gryphon called, another gryphon circling the air above.

My mind was not on the conversation, but on something else, on _someone_ else.

_Edmund. Edmund. Edmund. Edmund. Edmund. _

"Chec. I have a scheduled meeting with the King." He replied impatiently.

"Ah yes, King Edmund did in fact mention your meeting with him. However, the king will not be available until late tomorrow."

"Why is this?"

"He is away, sir."

_"Away?" _

"His specific location will not be revealed to you. I can take you to Cair Paravel and his sister will see that you are given a place to rest."

"Fair enough. Gather the slave and the tent." Chec mumbled to the master behind him.

One walked towards me, his eyes twinkling with mischievousness. I jerked away from him when he grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet, his lips at my ear. "We'll leave you conscious for this one."

I yanked my arm away, but he hissed and grabbed it again, leading me towards the horses. They tied the other end of the rope (the one that wasn't wrapped around my wrists) to the saddle horn and hit me on my jaw, laughing as the gryphon flinched.

The gryphon studied me with sympathy, before beating his wings and joining the gryphon circling the air. Chec mounted his horse, kicking the animal forward, yanking me forward. I struggled to keep up with the trotting horse, jogging along behind them. The gryphon flew above us, guiding us towards my E—Edmund's home.

It came into a view once we got past the trees and I froze, gasping as the large building stood before me. It was set on a cliff, or it seemed it be an actual part of the cliff, standing four hundred feet off the ground. It's large; egg-shell white stone walls seemed to shine even with the darkened sky. Windows were placed evenly across the span of the castle, one room (which I would imagine being the throne room due to the stories Lucy had told me) had no walls, just pillars supporting the glass roof. I couldn't, however, see into the room, because it was placed at the highest point of the castle.

To sum the sight up, it was like nothing you would have ever seen before. It's something you must witness in order to fully understand it.

I was yanked forward, stumbling to my knees and falling on my face.

"Get up!"

I stood up weakly, my stomach clenching painfully with hunger and my head still throbbing in pain from the amount of beatings I had received. The gryphon landed near the grand gate, glancing at me in pity again before opening his great beak and letting out a scream. He closed his beak, then beat his wings and flew into the air, circling the castle grounds.

A centaur trotted to the gates, standing on the opposite side of it as us, peering through the bars. "What is your business here?"

"We have come to meet King Edmund."

The centaur gestured to a faun, who was standing by the gate with him. He bent to whisper something in the faun's ear and the faun whispered something back.

"The king is not available at this time."

"Then we wish to see his most royal sister."

The centaur nodded and gestured the faun off. After a moment of brief confusion, we were allowed inside the gates. The centaur took one look at me and cocked his head. His eyes seemed to study everything about me, from my face to the lack of clothes I was wearing. I shifted uncomfortably and he looked away, holding up a battle hardened arm.

"Hold on, please."

He trotted away, leaving us in the company of a few guards (who had said nothing so far). When the centaur came galloping back, a much larger one was with him.

"Greetings, visitors, my name is Oreius. What is yours?"

Chec looked to be slightly frightened by the large, muscular centaur. "Er…Chec."

Oreius looked at him for a little longer, before nodding and gesturing to the guards beside us. "Search them."

Everyone but me was searched, patted down to make sure they were carrying no weapons. Once they were cleared, however, they were led (along with me) towards the main entrance of the castle.

Oreius talked the entire way there too and I was amazed at how gruff and threatening his voice was. "Our king will return soon, he is only away for awhile. His sister, however, specializes with handling visitors so you will be in good hands. King Edmund has already briefed the Table of the Lion on the current issues and we are ready to meet sometime tomorrow."

"I look forward to it." Chec mumbled, glancing up at the large walls.

"Dismount here, a servant will take your horse from you."

Chec dismounted and threw the reins at the young stable girl, who glanced at me helplessly. Chec reached up and untied the rope from the saddle horn, yanking me towards him once again. I looked back at the well-fed servant, as did Chec.

"I thought the Kings and Queens were against slavery?"

"They are." Oreius shot Chec a glare. "What would make you think otherwise?"

"Is that not a slave?" He gestured towards the servant girl. "Hypocritical of the King and Queen, don't you say?"

"That is not a slave." Oreius continued forward, his hooves clanking against the slick, marble floor. "That is a servant. She serves here willingly, unlike the slave you tow behind you right now."

Chec glanced at me, a twisted smile appearing on his dark face. "Are you referring to the king's lover?"

I blushed, my eyes falling to the ground as I felt Oreius' eyes fixate on me.

"Impossible, the king is arranged to marry next year."

Those words hit me like a bucket of ice water, and I felt my heart rip apart, my breath catching in my throat. "W-What?"

All of them looked back at me and I could see Chec's plan to use me as a bargaining chip falling apart in his head. He cocked his head at me, the thick black bangs falling in front of his yellow eyes. "I was wrong then."

I snapped my mouth shut, this is what I wanted, right? I wanted them to believe that Edmund and I had nothing going on, that way they couldn't get him to surrender. However, I had _never_ expected him to be getting _married_.

"Yes. My nephew will lead you to the throne room, but I must depart from you." He said his farewells to us and then trotted away, leaving us with a younger centaur, who barely looked old enough to work in the castle.

He smiled goofily though and trotted along in front of us, up the stairs, down a hallway, left, right, up three flights of stairs, down a few hallways, up a few more stairs. We finally arrived at the throne room, the rain bouncing off the glass ceiling with a _pitter_ _patter_. At the very end of the grand room was a stage, with large steps leading up to it, and on the stage were four thrones. Each throne had two steps leading up to a small platform as well as a golden arrow carved into the backrest of each one. Two of them had royal a royal silk cloth, one blue and one gold, draped over the back of them. The throne that had the gold cloth had a carving of a sword in the backrest, while the blue clothed one had a carving of a bottle. The throne in the center was empty, but on the backrest was a carving of a sword and a wand crossed, the wand's tip shattered. And on the last throne, the one with a carving of a horn, was a beautiful woman.

Her long, dark hair fell down her back in waves, her bangs woven into a braid and clipped together at the back of her head, away from her face. A golden crown carved to represent a wreath of daffodils and mountain ash leaves. Her skin was pale, paler than even Edmund's, and her eyes a twinkling gray color. She wore a pale green velvet dress, done over in what looked to be designs of gold leaves, diamonds littering her sleeves. The neckline scooped, baring a fair amount of pale flesh, and a golden necklace with an emblem (a lion carved into it, just like Edmund's) hung from around her neck. A rich green, silk most likely, cape was attached to the shoulders of her dress, flowing down and twisted around to rest in her lap. The edge of the dress was decorated with gold lace.

She was beautiful, just like her brother.

Chec seemed to lose his breath at her beauty and he bowed his head to her, before raising it look into her eyes.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the Queen of Narnia."

A smirk twisted at her lips, similar to Edmund's own smirk, and she stood from her throne. "We welcome you here and are pleased that you have decided to pay us a visit. I apologize for my most royal brother's absence, but I assure you that he will return shortly. And who, pray tell, is this?"

I watched as her gaze settled on me, a flicker of concern passing through her gentle eyes. Chec took another glance to me. "No one, Your Majesty."

"No one?" She turned her eyes back to the dirty man, a frown settling upon her fine features. "He does not look to be no one."

"A commoner, your Highness."

"I would like a name, my friend." She clenched her teeth together, clearly frustrated with the man before her.

"Err…"

I looked at him in shock. He knew my name, didn't he? No, wait, he only knew me by 'whore'. I shifted uncomfortably, before bowing my head in the only way I knew to be respectful. "P-Peter, your Majesty."

She gasped sharply, her eyes widening as she stared at me. "Y-Your name is Peter?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She studied me for awhile longer. "I will send notice to my brother that you have arrived. He will be pleased to hear that you have arrived."

"Thank you." Chec watched her for a little longer as she motioned for a faun to come to her.

Though my hearing wasn't always the sharpest, it was sharp enough to pick up on a few words whispered to the faun. I caught only a few words such as, 'Edmund', 'Peter', 'return immediately'. I continued to watch as she finished telling the faun the message and turned back to us.

"My servants will show you your rooms. Peter, however, I would like to stay behind with me."

Chec raised an eyebrow at her, before chuckling his rough laugh. "I'm afraid I can't allow that, missy. He is my property."

"You are in _my_ property and breaking _my_ laws. You will release Peter to me for the day and if you _ever_ refer to me as 'missy' _again_, I _will_ see to it that my brother has you beheaded."

I had never seen Chec undo my binds so quickly. He half-shoved me towards the queen, bowing to her once again, before scurrying after the servant in fear.

She studied me for a minute longer, taking in my cuts and bruises. "Come, let us make our way towards the infirmary. They shall treat your wounds."

I noticed, once she stepped down from the last step, that she was several inches shorter than me, maybe even a full foot. Nevertheless, I felt small in her presence as she led me out the door.

"T-Thank you, Your M-Majesty." I stuttered over my words as I followed her down a flight of stairs.

"Do not thank me, Peter. It's the least I can do for you." She smiled gently at me, leading me down the hallway.

I nodded, rubbing my hands against the raw skin on my wrists. I shifted uncomfortably, one question tumbling around in my mind.

"Where's Edmund?" I blurted. "I mean…where is High King Edmund?"

She looked back at me and sighed, running a hand over her sleeve. She stopped in the hallway, turning to fixate her eyes on my face. "He rode north."

"Err...okay? Why?"

"To clear his head." She whispered, her smoldering gaze (similar to Edmund's) settling on the slopes of my cheeks. "He needed time to himself so I sent him away."

"Is he alright?"

"Hard to say." She whispered. "Peter, I trust that you are a good man because I know my brother would never have fallen for a selfish man."

"He fell for me?" I whispered, hope shining through my eyes. "But...but, I thought he was arranged to marry next year?"

"He is…was…I don't know. He agreed to marry before he left to deal with the slave trade, but after he came back…after he met you…he straightforwardly refused, saying he would rather marry someone he actually loved, but apparently you two were in a fight before he left? It's been eating at him for weeks."

I shifted my weight to the other foot, staring down at her. "I don't…I didn't…I'm sorry."

"I know." She whispered, her hand going up to touch my shoulder gently. "I said some things that hurt him too."

"W-What did you say?" I didn't like the fact that anyone had hurt Edmund, but it seemed strange that his sister had hurt him too. Lucy and I rarely fought and when we did, it was over within a matter of seconds.

"I told him you didn't love him." She sighed as I looked at her in shock. "I see now that you do. I see it in your eyes, in the way you talk about him, and I regret everything I ever said to him, but you must understand something, Peter. Being a king and queen…we do not marry based upon love or devotion, but instead power and families. He can't be with you, Peter."

The words pounded into my chest and I stared at her in shock, my mouth moving in silent words.

"I'm sorry, Peter, I know this hurts, but he must marry the princess. You have to keep your relationship platonic. For his sake."

"W-What?" I could feel my heart slowly coming to a stop, feel my blood start to run cold, feel the darkness close in around me. I wasn't allowed to love Edmund. I couldn't be with him.

"If you love him, you'll promise me this."

We stood there for a minute, but then I thought of Edmund's gentle smile and chocolate brown eyes. Of the gentle slope of his back and the defined muscles of his arm, of his glowing personality and his sarcastic humor. I wanted what was best for him and if giving him up was what he needed, then I would do it.

"I promise, Your Majesty."

She smiled gently. "Thank you, now, let's get you the infirmary."

I followed her quietly, hearing only the beating of my dying heart and the pounding in my head.

* * *

A/N: Don't kill me plzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Ed/Pete will return. I promise!! Dumb Susan is just in the way! I'm sorry, I hate Susan, I had to make u guys hate her tooo! lol


	7. I don't want the world to see me

A/N: I'm alive! Sorry it took me so long to put this chapter up. Finals are just...ugh...yeah. But I hope you enjoy :) and I tried to make Susan more likeable in this chapter :) hope it worked.

* * *

_And I don't want the world to see me  
Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am_

_Iris—Goo Good Dolls_

"Alright, hold still, dear." The nurse's gentle hands worked over the wounds of my back, applying some kind of healing herb and then bandaging them.

I had never received this amount of tender care and I was tempted to pull away, still unworthy of the attention they were giving me. I glanced helplessly to Susan, begging her to relieve me of this, but she made no move to do so. By now, my entire ribcage was wrapped in an off-white bandage, both of my thumbs and pointer fingers were in splints (the masters had broken them to prevent me from undoing the ties on my wrists on my way here) and my wrists had been washed and bandaged.

Yet my heart clenched painful in my chest and they could do nothing to relieve me of that pain. No one could, no one but _Edmund_.

Susan stood to her feet (she had been sitting against the wall, patiently waiting) and walked over to where the nurse stood by my side. "How bad of shape is he in?"

The nurse stopped prodding at my lower back and turned to face the gentle queen, sighing deeply. "I've treated his most severe wounds, but he still has _some_ minor ones that we'll need to keep an eye on," she glanced at me, "and he definitely suffers from malnutrition. He'll need plenty of protein and rest and I would suggest that he does _no_ extreme activities for a few days at least."

Susan turned to look at me and sighed. "They must treat you horribly."

I shrugged, the bandage rubbing awkwardly against the inside of my arms as I rest my arms around my sides.

She nodded and turned back to the nurse, giving her a grateful smile. "Thank you for your kind services."

"Anything for the Queen of Narnia." The nurse bowed to her and left, leaving Susan and I alone..._again_.

Susan shifted her weight to the other foot, glancing at me sadly, before leaving my side to walk over to a desk in the far corner of the white-washed room. She shuffled some things around, but eventually grabbed a velvet tunic and trousers. She walked over to me and handed them to me. "These are Edmund's. I tried to find his most casual outfit; I knew you wouldn't be quite comfortable with his regal wear. Once Edmund returns, I'm sure he'll have a wardrobe made for you."

"W-When does he get back?" I whispered, my heart beating dully in my chest.

"I'm not quite sure, he's _never_ on schedule. Either tomorrow morning or tomorrow night." She shrugged and then walked to a door at the far end of the room, twisting the doorknob and pushing it open. "You can change in there."

I stood shakily to my feet and made my way towards the door. Once inside, I noticed it was just a small facility room and I quickly stripped of my rotten trousers. I pulled on the course woven cotton, long-sleeve shirt, doing the lace up in the front. I then pulled on a pair of tan trousers, tucking them into knee-high boots. I took a moment to smooth out the wrinkles of my shirt before slipping the brown velvet tunic on over it. It was short sleeved, almost like a tank top, revealing the blue undershirt. On the sleeves were emblems of gold embroidery, looking like golden leaves. I fit the belt around my waist, a small red leather belt with a golden buckle. I felt awfully strange and uncomfortable in these clothes and this was just his most casual clothes.

I sighed, adjusting my tunic again before opening the door and walking out. Susan took one look at me and smiled approvingly. "You look handsome, Peter."

I blushed, my fingers clutching uncertainly at my belt. "These are his most _casual_ clothes?"

She smiled and motioned for me to follow her. "One of his most casual. His training clothes are probably the most casual, but he took those with him."

I picked at my sleeve again as I followed her out the room. She led me down a few hallways, and then up a stairway. As we neared our destination, though I had no clue where that was, the windows became more scarce and the light dimmer. Soon, Susan stopped in front of large double doors, two centaurs guarding them with grave expressions. She motioned for them to open the door and they did so, watching me warily. We stepped into the hallway, no windows to provide light, only torches. She gently smiled when I paused to observe a picture.

"Is this you?" I whispered, beckoning to the large picture frame on the wall. She was sitting on a cushioned bench, her legs crossed in front of her, her hands folded in her lap. Her hair cascaded down her front in full, dark waves and a red-lipped smile was upon her beautiful face. Behind her stood Edmund, his arm upon her shoulder, his knee resting on the bench, while his other disappeared behind it. His face was much sadder than Susan's and his eyes far too haunted. A golden crown sat lopsided on his dark head.

"Yes. We had an artist volunteer to paint a portrait of us after our coronation." She ran her fingers over the gentle slope of Edmund's cheeks. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

I nodded, my eyes resting on only Edmund's face, willing him to come alive. She turned and tugged at my sleeve and I followed her, peering down the hallway. At the end of the hallway were two grand double doors, tall and wide. Their frame was decorated with gold lettering, Latin words scribbled into the side. The door itself was oak, dark and beautiful. Two swords were engraved on the front of the door, crossing where the two doors met, a golden lion, his mouth open in a silent roar, was painted onto of the swords. The doorknobs were designed like a lion's head, his mane flowing down into a braid to create the handle of the door.

"What's _that_?" I whispered, beckoning to the door.

"The High King's chambers. Edmund's chambers." She whispered, looking toward it with a hint of jealousy. "_No one_ is allowed entrance, not even me."

"Why?" I looked at the doors again.

"There are documents in there that only a king, the High King himself, may see. Only Aslan, his personal servant and Edmund himself have ever stepped foot into that room. And if you were wise, you wouldn't dare enter."

"You haven't been in there?"

"No, I'm not the High King." She smiled gently. "My room is good enough for me."

I nodded and followed her away from the brilliant doors as she opened a smaller single door. She beckoned me inside and closed the door behind her. "This is your room, at least while you're staying here. I'd be incredibly grateful though, only Edmund's honored guests stay in here."

I looked around the room, taking in the simple layout. It was larger than any of the cabins back home. A small balcony, overlooking the ocean, was towards the back, two large glass doors leading out towards it. A queen-sized bed was placed to the far left, a nightstand directly beside it. A wardrobe was on the other side of the bed, beside the door that I assumed led to the bathroom. Two chairs and a desk were placed to my right, a bookcase directly behind it. A couch was placed against the back wall.

I was speechless...and undeserving.

"I think this is more than enough. You sure you don't have a smaller room?" I winced. "One more fitting for a slave?"

"Edmund would want you to have this room." She whispered, walking over to open the glass doors.

I sighed, following her out onto the balcony. "_I'm just a slave,_ Susan, I'm hardly deserving."

She laughed gently. "You think so little of yourself, Peter. Enjoy the room."

"I do enjoy it. It's just...overwhelming."

"You'll get use to it, trust me." She curved a hand around the back of my neck, playing with the hairs at the nape of my neck. "You look so tired."

I shrugged, shifting uncomfortably on my feet, staring at her in fogged confusion. "Why are you being so pleasant to me?"

"Would you expect anything else?" She whispered.

"I corrupted your brother; I thought you'd hate me." I confessed and she dropped her hands from my neck.

"That gives me no reason to hate you." She sighed once more, walking back into the room and hovering by the doorway. "Get some rest, Peter. I'll wake you for breakfast tomorrow."

I nodded gratefully and watched as she pulled the door closed behind her exiting back. I slipped my tunic off, keeping my undershirt on as I slipped under the covers. My head hit the pillow and my eyelids fluttered closed. I was asleep in a matter of seconds, worn from traveling and tired from years of restless nights.

_I was in a field, a large colorful field filled with daffodils and white roses, but the normally green grass was stained crimson. I sat up, my eyes scanning the area as I clambered to my feet. "Hello?"_

_There was a sudden shift in the wind, blowing some of the crimson-painted leaves towards my face. I turned to look behind me, out at the field of red and gasped. Amongst the leaves, in the middle of the field, laid Edmund, his dark eyes turned upwards toward the sky as he lay stretched out on his back._

_"Edmund!" I yelled, stumbling towards him and dropping to my knees beside him. "Edmund, I'm here. I'm here, I'm here. What's wrong?"_

_"My heart..." He gasped out, his eyes dulling._

_I laid my hand on his chest, panic washing over my body. "What happened? Someone help!!"_

_"_No one_ can help me, Pete." He struggled to breath and my eyes widened._

_"W-What?"_

_"_You_ broke my heart." With that, his eyes fluttered shut and I jumped back from the freezing body._

_The crimson liquid pooled around me and I looked down at it, observing the sticky sensation. I froze when I realized it was blood, Edmund's blood._

"No!" I bolted upright, my limbs flailing out, eyes flying open. "Edmund!"

The room was pitch dark, save for the moonlight seeping in through the window. I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest and took a few deep breaths. Edmund's blood haunted me and I opened my hands to inspect my palms. I gasped when I finally managed to pry my fingers away from my palm.

_Blood._

I screamed again, leaping off the bed and backing into a wall, staring at my hands with a terrified expression. My breathing was labored and I felt myself growing closer to breaking, the tears gathering in the back of my eyes and a lump rising in my throat. I slid to the ground, finally succumbing to my weakness and sobbing brokenly, hands clutching at my knees. My blonde hair was matted to the side of my head with sweat and my eyes red from crying and I'm absolutely sure I looked like I had seen a ghost when a faun stumbled through the door. He took one look at me and sighed, hooves clapping against the stone floor as he made his way to me.

"Sir, are you well?" His shadow fell over me, his figure a silhouette to the moon.

I scrubbed at my eyes, sniffling a few times. "Yes, I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

He smiled gently. "You did no such thing, I was already awake."

I took the hand he offered to me and pulled myself to my feet. I was a foot or so taller than him and stronger built, but somehow, I felt smaller in his presence. He smiled up at me, dark brown eyes studying my crystal blue ones. I smiled awkwardly, drying the last of my tears from the corner of my eyes.

"Tell me, dear friend, why do you cry?"

I shifted my weight to the other foot. "Nightmares. _Vivid_ nightmares."

He nodded sadly. "I'm sorry." He glanced toward the window, running a hand through his curly hair. "Care to join me for a walk?"

"Sure." I muttered. "I guess."

He nodded joyfully and exited the room, while I followed a few feet behind him. He led me out of the gated hallway and down a few levels until we reached a large hallway with two glass doors at the end of it. Upon exiting the hallway, we entered what looked like a garden. White roses rose almost ghost-like against the dark green lawn. Rose bushes fenced the entire area, red roses littering its leaves. Numerous flowers were planted along the garden, a narrow cobblestone path weaving its way through the beautiful area. At one point the cobblestone path formed a circle, parts of it branching off into another path. In the center of the circle was a stone fountain, a stone statue was placed into the center of the statue, water running over its stone-hard flanks and raised sword. A bench was placed on either side of the fountain, flowers blooming at its base.

I stood, breathless and awed by what I saw. The faun laughed and led me around the circle, my eyes taking in everything there was to see.

"Pardon my manners, but I don't believe we have met before." The faun smiled. "Or do I stand corrected?"

"No, no. We haven't met before, or at least I don't think we have. I'm sure I would have remembered, but I don't...so I don--" I stopped muttering. "I'm Peter."

"Oh my. Oh Aslan, forgive me for intruding upon you earlier. Please, I did not intend to bother you or put you in a state of discomfort." He took a shaky breath. "Forgive me, kind sir."

"Uh, you're forgiven, but why are you apologizing to me? I'm just a slave and you're...you're..."

He blushed suddenly. "Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is Mr. Tumnus; I am the High King's personal servant and advisor."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Tumnus." I extended my hand and he took it, his hand sweaty and shaking.

"It's pleasure to finally meet you as well, Sir Peter."

My eyebrows shot up and I gave a dry laugh. "_Sir_ Peter? Perhaps you did not hear me when I said I am just a slave."

"Slave or not, you are still the High King's suitor and that title alone demands the utmost respect. If I have undermined you, I do apologize." He whispered, but by this point I had stopped breathing.

"The High King's suitor?" I whispered.

"Yes. For the King's and your courtship was not meant to be a secret, was it? Or have I revealed something that should have not been?"

"Uh, no. I just don't, er," He sighed. "Does everyone believe me to be Edmund's suitor?"

"Well of course." Tumnus laughed gently. "It's all he speaks of these days."

My fingers closed around the inside of Mr. Tumnus's wrist and I gasped. "Do you mean that?"

"I'm sorry?" He whispered, an eyebrow cocking in my direction.

"Do you mean it when he says that I am all he speaks of?"

"Of course, why would he speak of anything else?"

He laughed as he took a seat on one of the benches, stretching his long legs out in front of him, hooves clanking against the cobblestone. "His heart belongs to you; he should be able to speak of it freely."

I felt my heart twist violently in guilt as I sunk down next to the faun. "He shouldn't love me, you know?"

He turned his head to face me, brown curls bouncing. "Why is this?"

"Because it's wrong." I mumbled.

"What is so wrong about his love for you?"

I sighed, dropping my head into my hands. "He's supposed to marry some princess or daughter of some duke. He's supposed to have a heir to the throne and a queen by his side. I can't give him any of that."

"You can give him your love." A faint whisper that I had to cock my head to hear. I turned to look at him out of the corner of my eyes, my breathing picking up.

"The people would revolt."

Mr. Tumnus laughed, his curls tossed in front of his eyes. "Have you not learned from now that the people are never pleased? We could give them the world and they would _still _want more."

I sighed, dropping my head back into my hands.

"Besides, King Edmund's personal life does not concern them." He sighed. "At least it _shouldn't_."

I moved my head up so that just my chin rested on my palm, my fingers lazily resting against my jaw, my eyes turned to view the garden in front of me. "I'm still a slave. He's a king. He's like...at the top of the caste system. He's a _legend_. All I have under my name is 'half-breed'."

"So you should feel honored that you are a part of a legendary warrior's life, should you not?"

"I do...in some way. I mostly feel undeserving, selfish, and so on. I mean, I don't really deserve his love. He deserves someone so much better. Someone so much more _important_."

"You focus too much on the caste system of this world, Peter." He suddenly pressed a finger to my chest, a faint smile playing at his lips, my heart beating gently under his hand. "Listen to _this_."

I bit my lip, drawing blood. I slowly sat up and looked out towards the blossoming garden, my fingers fiddling with each other. "_King_ Edmund. Peter." My name sounded so awfully dull next to his and I sunk back into my hunched over position, dropping my head back to its previous position. "_King Edmund. King Edmund_."

Tumnus sighed beside me. "Peter, tell me. What is the lowest caste?"

"Pagenses. _Slaves_ and peasants." I sighed deeply. "Top of the caste system, Optimus. _Kings_ and nobles."

"No, no. What is below the Pagenses?"

"There is no such caste." I raised an eyebrow as I angled my head to look at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Yes, there is such a caste. The Scelestus." He mumbled the words thick on his tongue.

"The Scelestus? You mean the _Untouchables_?" I scrunched up my nose. "They _hardly_ count."

"But you admit to them being of lower status than you?" He pressed on.

"Of course." My head cocked to the side. "So?"

"Do you remember what is included in that caste?"

"Of course, criminals, thieves, prostitutes, offenders, rebels..." I suddenly paused, my lips freezing and forming a perfect 'O'.

"...and _traitors_." He finished for me. "Perhaps you remember King Edmund's treachery."

I stood up quickly, my eyes locking on his. "How can you even place him in that class!? He is your king!"

"That does not erase what he did." He whispered. "Do you not see, Peter, that even the caste system can not separate you two from loving each other?"

"He's still a king. I'm still a slave." I pointed out, dropping back onto the bench.

"His Majesty was most definitely correct in saying you were stubborn. I can not argue with him there." He muttered.

"Good." I whispered. "Tumnus, please, as a friend, grant me some wisdom."

"Allow yourself to love Edmund."

"No, no, not concerning that." I waved my hand at him, sighing. "Queen Susan has demanded that I break Edmund's heart. That is why I cannot love him."

"Queen Susan would do no such thing." He hissed. "She cares too much for the wellbeing of King Edmund! How dare you even say such a thing! I won't hear of it!"

"No, she's doing it for him. To protect him."

Mr. Tumnus looked away for a brief moment and I could see the conflict in his eyes. He turned to face me and sighed. "Do you tell me the truth, Sir Peter?"

I nodded and his head fell. "Queen Susan was not wise in making such a rash decision. Curse these castle walls for they have heard me say foul things towards our rulers."

I did not understand why they, the nobles, talked in such a formal way. It was just bothersome. "Tumnus," He turned his head to look at me. "I don't want to hurt Edmund."

He looked ancient for a minute, something I had come to notice about the rulers of our land...their eyes looked far too old for their bodies. Too old and too tired.

"Well than, I suppose you must follow her commands. She is the queen, I am just an advisor."

I nodded faintly, my head suddenly felt like lead. "I do not wish to keep you from sleep, so if you'll excuse me."

He nodded, but grabbed my arm before I left. "You can close your eyes when you don't wish to see something, but you can't close your heart from something you do not wish to feel. Remember that, alright?"

I looked at him with momentary confusion. "I will." I then proceeded towards my chamber.

Behind me, the faun turned his head towards the west and prayed.

* * *

I was use to arising to the smell of vomit and sweat and to the sounds of coughing and dying. However, I had never awoken to the aroma of fresh air and birds singing. I sat up, cracking my neck and stretching out my long limbs.

"Good, you're awake." A joyful voice reached my ears and I turned to look at the queen. "Join me for breakfast."

I smiled and swung my legs over the side of the bed, pulling the brown tunic off the nightstand and over my head. I hurriedly tugged my boots on and jogged to the door. She smiled up at me and laughed.

"What?" I looked down at her smiling face. She had the same smile as Edmund.

"Oh, nothing." She smirked. "Your hair looks like a jungle."

"Yeah, well it's the new look." I smiled back. "You should try it sometime. It looks especially good with long hair."

"Really? I think I might just do that. Wear it to an upcoming ball or something."

"Your people would love that, Your Majesty." I smiled good naturedly.

"Oh, most definitely." She grinned. "Now, how was your sleep?"

"Good." I lied. "And yours?"

"Pleasant, as always."

We began walking down towards the dining hall, chatting good-naturedly about hair and festivals and warfare and at one point, even Edmund. Of course, she changed the subject almost immediately. When we finally did arrive at the dining hall, I had to stop and stare for the hundredth time since I had gotten here.

The dining hall was huge and eloquent. The floors were made of fine polished wood and the walls of oak. Large, glass windows encircled the room, allowing a large amount of sunlight to leak in. One wall, the western wall, was made entirely of glass, revealing a large view of the western woods and a large waterfall. In the center of the room, placed on top of a blood red carpet, was a long table. It was made of the finest wood and the legs of the table were carved into a lion's paw. Ancient prophecies were engraved in the sides of the table. Along the sides, and at the ends, were cushioned chairs. Each one was tall and more closely related to a throne than a chair, with dark red cushioned seats and backrests. At the end of the table was the largest seat, I assumed it was Edmund's, and it was gold instead of wood.

Susan took a seat in the chair on the right of Edmund's. She gestured for me to sit across from her and smiled when I did so. I felt so out of place, but spoke nothing of it as Tumnus and a few other fauns entered the room, Mr. Tumnus sat beside me, flashing me a weak smile, and the rest of the fauns and dwarves and dryads filled the rest of the twelve chairs.

Then breakfast was served. Servants, mostly female fauns or dryads, bustled out of the kitchen, laying dishes out on the wooden table. The aroma of bacon, eggs, spiced wine, grape juice, lamb, sausage, grapes, bananas, melons, pineapple, ginger ale, milk, bread, butter, and chicken filled the air. I hesitantly picked at the eggs on my plate until Susan laughed.

"Eat, Peter." She smirked. "Forget about being polite. Just this once."

I nodded gratefully at her and dug into the food. Eventually, I had filled my plate with a vine of grapes, two eggs, and a section of lamb, some pineapple, two pieces of buttered toast, and a glass of spiced wine.

Susan continued to chat with the others while I states absorbed in my meal. I finished quietly, settling back against the cushioned back rest. I had never felt more satisfied than right now. Well that was until I turned to find Chec, who had seated himself at the opposite end of the table sometime without me noticing him, glaring daggers into my skull. I looked down, a faint blush of shame reaching my ears.

"Peter, are you well?" Susan whispered, her fingers gliding over the table to rest on mine.

I glanced up just in time to see Chec's eyes widen at the sight of our clasped hands. He glanced at me and then back to our hands, before a twisted smile of pleasure broke through. He sat back, satisfied with his "new discovery". I yanked my hand say from Susan's, standing hurriedly.

"Can we go?" I muttered.

"Uh," She stood awkwardly, brushing her hands over her skirt. "I guess."

I nodded and followed her out of the door. She led me to the door, her hand winding through mine. I tried to ignore Chec's eyes and the way they seemed to gleam with satisfaction and twisted hope. We didn't speak until we were on the courtyard.

"What was that about, Peter?" She whispered, breaking the link between our hands.

"Chec." I whispered and she seemed to understand.

"Well, I need to get my archery practice in, would you mind tagging along?" She smiled as we reached the stables. "Unless you wish to be elsewhere."

"No, I'll go with you." I smiled. "My sister has told me stories of your archery skills; I want to see if what she says is true."

"I assure you I am a fine archer." She laughed as a servant led a horse to us.

"I'll believe it when I see it." I smiled, before turning my attention to the single horse. A chestnut mare with a slick coat and fiery brown eyes. "Is there not another horse?"

"Usually, yes. However, Neo is sick and Philip is with Edmund," she swung up on the saddle, scooting back. "And the others are out grazing."

I laughed, grabbing the pommel of the English saddle and pulling myself to sit in front of Susan. "So I'm stuck riding with you?"

"So it seems." She whispered by my ear and I tensed, suddenly all too aware of her arms around my waist and her mouth beside my ear and the heavy height of her chest against my back.

I kicked the horse into a gallop in a vain attempt to clear my mind. The horse quivered beneath me as I listened to the instructions Susan gave me. Eventually, we arrived at a large field, the area cleared save for a few targets and a fencing arena. Susan dismounted and straightened her skirt, motioning for me to dismount as well. I did so and led the horse to a tree, reaching up to a tree limb to tie him too.

"George won't run off." Susan laughed. "Will you?"

"Where would I go, Your Majesty?" The horse blew out through his nostrils, resembling a laugh.

I patted George's neck and he nuzzled my leg, causing Susan and I to chuckle. Susan walked to where a row of targets was aligned, pulling a practice bow and arrow from its holder. She clicked her tongue and set up her shot. Her fingers released and the arrow whizzed through the air and embedded itself straight into the target.

Bull's-eye.

"Would you look at that?" I whistled. "The legends are true."

She smiled, setting another up. Another perfect shot. She did three more perfectly and then set up for the farthest target at the end of the field.

As I watched her prepare, I began to notice just how similar Susan was to Edmund. Their eyes were both too intense, and their jaws both vivid in their structures, and their dark hair washed out their pale faces. Both seemed too old, too wise, though Susan just seemed too...tired sometimes, Edmund just carried a haunted look in his eyes.

The whiz of another arrow awoke me from my musings. No shock, it was a perfect shot.

"Do you want to try?" She suggested, offering me her bow.

"No thank you." I pushed it away.

"Just try it." She whispered, shoving it into my hands.

I tried my best to line it up like she did, but utterly failed. It whizzed by without even so much as grazing off the edge. She laughed while I blushed in shame. I lined up for another shot, competition coursing through my veins. But the arrow fell dead when I felt her chest press to my back. I jumped away, eyes going wide.

"Settle down, I'm just showing you how to do it properly."

I nodded, giving a dry laugh as I returned to my previous position. Her fingers slid up my arm, over my bicep and down over my han-

A horn sounded, causing both of us to jump. Susan pushed a hand through her hair as a worried grin set upon her beautiful features.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Uh, that's the signal that Edmund is near."

My heart stopped and my face split into a smile, completely missing her defeated look. She tugged at my hand and led me towards George. We mounted and cantered towards the castle entrance, the sudden tension between us momentarily unnoticed. I dismounted as soon as I reached the stable, not bothering to wait for Susan, and rushed towards the castle.

She caught up with me, yanking my hand back and leading me towards another gate entrance that led outside the castle grounds into the common village. The doors were opened for us and we stepped through, making our way through the gathered crowd. Now, as Susan, Tumnus, a few other advisors and I gathered amongst the steps, I could see down into the street where the common people gathered. Two black horses made their way through the crowd; both riders wore black cloaks that hid their faces.

I could feel my heart accelerating as the horse neared the bottom of the steps. The rider dismounted, his silver lined cape flowing behind him. He proceeded up the steps, his face still hidden. The second rider was at his side and both of them were unrecognizable with the hoods.

Susan left my side as soon as the first rider stepped onto the flat surface, directly in front of us. "Brother, it has been so long since I have seen your face. Remove thy hood so I may rest my eyes upon the face of my brother."

Pale hands reached to the hood and I stopped breathing all together. The hood fell back and Edmund's handsome face was revealed to me. He was just as I remember, just more noble and worn-looking.

"Dear sister, you have not missed me." He whispered icily.

"Whatever do you mean, brother?"

"_You_ sent me away." He whispered, and turned his eyes toward the entrance, the six advisors following him "You _cannot_ miss me."

Susan sighed and turned to follow her brother inside until she seemed to remember the stone statue that was me. She took my hand and led me inside, her fingers linked with mine.

"Though, Susan, King Lune did bring an i--" His eyes turned to Susan again and then drifted to her hand. He followed the hand up until it rested on my face. The air froze around us, the accompanying crowd freezing with it. He studied me with critical eyes, before they flashed to Susan and I's hands again.

Susan immediately dropped my hand. "Edmund, this isn't...this isn't what it appears to be."

He still watched me, but I saw the betrayal flash across his eyes and I just opened my mouth to speak, but said nothing and closed it.

"Edmund...I...I...." I looked around nervously, my eyes finally catching Tumnus'. I nodded. "I...I missed you."

He said nothing, just turned and walked forward. With that, the crowd continued forward, while Susan and I were left behind.

His silence hurt more than anything.

* * *

DUH DUH DUH DUN!!! Sorry, I have always wanted to do that :) so you know the drill, review!!! Also I need your guys opinion, I might do this I might not.

What do you guys think about a remake of the Lion, the Witch, and The wardrobe with a peter/edmund tone to it?? Kind of like "Tempting Fate" (which yes, I'm slowly getting around to finishing it x_x) but with the first movie instead? So what do you think???

Also I'm posting some stories up at my livejournal account pretty soon and I have a really random Will/Skandar one lol where Will turns into a girl and it's just...it's a mess but haha i'm trying.

So review! Like now!!


	8. Break Your Heart

A/N: Chapter 8 is up!!! I should probably warn you that this is a reallllllly short chapter, but that's because chapter 9-16 (there will be 17 chapters) are going to be pretty long and complex, so I need to get this short one in there. And this has alot of emotion in it, like ALOT! But anyway, ENJOY!!!

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_I know that it will hurt  
I know that it will break your heart  
The way things are_  
_--Natalie Merchant _

Honestly, I could see how he could easily misinterpret our actions. Holding hands with Susan, yes, that could definitely be seen as more than simple friendship, but the fact was it_ wasn't_. I _did not_ and _never would_ love Susan as I do Edmund. I sighed, pushing myself closer to the stone wall and sinking down to the ground where I hid my head between my arms and knees. I wanted to kiss Edmund, tell him I love him and then live happily ever, but this was the real world. A world disrupted by forbidden love and social classes of kings and slaves.

I _couldn't _love Edmund.

My head was going to implode from my thought process, from the different scenarios I was coming up with in my head. I yanked my blonde hair, feeling the pain creep up in my skull. It _was_ comforting in a way to know that I could feel pain in places other than my heart, that my heart wasn't the only thing feeling like it was about to burst. I shifted so that my body slid even more down the wall until I was lying on the ground, my body twisted awkwardly. My cheek pressed to the cold floor and I let a tear slide down my cheek.

Edmund didn't have the time of a day for me anymore. After entering the castle, he had been immediately herded into the throne room by his subjects. I had wandered down to what I hoped was an abandoned hallway, a place where no one could find me. I had been in here for over an hour and I suppose I should get up and at least move.

I eventually found a door that led to another room, a library, it looked to be. I ran my hand over the spines of the books, observing the numerous titles.

_Ways of the Humans, Prophecies and their Meanings, History of Narnia, Narnia's Monarchs, Golden Age: When is it to occur?, Aslan's Appointed, Prophecy of Four, History of the Just and Gentle, Narnian Laws, Narnian Philosophy, Land of Narnia._

I grasped the book titled, _History of the Just and Gentle_, taking a seat from the table in the center and opening the book to the first page.

The first drawing was of a girl in a land of white. Snow covered the trees and rocks, and practically everything that lay on the ground. A lamp post was placed in the center of the clearing, its bright light constantly shining over the frozen wasteland. The girl was small with a childlike face and a short haircut and some very odd clothing. Her fingers ghosted over the metal of the pole, her wary eyes cast out towards the surrounding trees. A faun's hoof was visible to the right of the drawing.

The second drawing was similar to the first, except it was a boy instead of a girl. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. _Edmund, Edmund, Edmund, Edmund_. He hugged his royal blue robe around his small form as he cast a disgusted, yet amazed look up at the lantern. I pressed my fingers to his face and sighed, wishing I had been there with him, maybe things would have been simpler then.

The third picture was of a woman, beautiful yet haunted and dangerous. Upon her brow sat a crown of ice, her woven hair draping over her shoulder. Her fur cloak was wound tightly around the boy at her side. _Edmund_. He was looking off into the distance where her finger pointed. His eyes were full of wonder, fear, and most of all, want. A twisted smile was at the lady's lips and it came to me. That was the witch, the White Witch. I had been alive during her rule and I remembered the never ending winters, the stone statues littering the land of Narnia. I, of course, had been living in the Lone Islands at the time and had only watched Narnia crumble from a distance.

The fourth picture was of four children standing around the lantern. The two tallest, Susan and Edmund's brother, I presumed, were looking at it with a mixture of awe and cautious fear. Edmund and his younger sister did not even cast it a look as they continued forward. The oldest, Edmund's brother, was, in fact, similar to me. His hair was a shade lighter, his skin paler, and his eyes slightly clearer.

_Bam!_

The door to the library banged shut, shaking the table and its contents. The girl, who had accidentally slammed the door, winced visibly and dropped a few books. She scowled, reaching down and pulling the books into her hands. I scooted the chair back, away from the table, and dropped to my knees to help her gather her books. She blushed when she finally raised her eyes to my level.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, kind sir." She whispered, taking a book from my hands gently. I gave her my best smile, standing to my feet and offering her my hand. She took it and pulled herself to her feet.

"Don't worry about it, my lady." I stumbled over my words, attempting to be courteous, though I had never been taught in such manners. "I was simply looking."

"Either way, sir." She looked over her shoulder, her brilliant red hair cascading over her shoulder, "It was extremely rude of me to enter in such a way."

I laughed quietly. "I always enter the room in that manner, it's quite fine."

She smiled softly, casting her eyes away from me. "Thank you, sir."

"Peter." I corrected. She threw me a confused look. "It's Peter, not sir. I am in no position to be called sir."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a smile again. She tossed her vibrant red hair over her shoulder again and batted her eyelashes. I wasn't sure if this was what she considered _friendly _or if she was coming onto me. She extended her hand towards me and giggled, "My name is Ashery."

"Ash-y?" I tried, the Narnian names foreign on my tongue.

"Ash-or-e." She corrected, smiling as I tried the name out again. "I'm Princess Alera's personal servant. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Alera?"

"Surely you've heard of the High King's future queen." Her eyebrows scrunched together, studying me with suddenly smoldering eyes. I shifted under her gaze, giving her a rather confused look. She scoffed, a look of total disbelief stretching across her face. "Princess Alera is scheduled to marry King Edmund next year, she's on her way here as we speak." She gestured to the books in her pale hands, "I was just picking out some books for her. She absolutely _adores_ reading."

"She's coming here?"

"Why, of course! Queen Susan requested her presence here." She moved past me to set the books on the table where I had been previously seated. Her fingers ghosted over the book I had been observing and she turned to me, holding it up. "You're reading this?"

"No, just looking at the pictures." _I can't read_, but I left the last bit off.

She flipped it open, trembling as she did so. "Those pictures are much too frightening for me; I choose to avoid that book."

"Frightening indeed, but we all must consider that truth can sometimes seem," the voice was beside my ear and I jumped away, only to feel hands lay gently on my hips and black hair brush against my cheek, "_frightening_," I trembled against him as he whispered the word in my ear though the sentence was directed towards the girl, "Lady Ashery."

She gasped; dropping the book she had been holding and curtsying immediately. I watched as the book landed on the floor with a _thud, _opening to a page of a drawing of three children, Susan and Edmund's two other siblings, huddled together, the oldest with a sworn drawn and pointed directly forward, a look of fear upon their faces.

"If you'll excuse us, my lady, I would like to be alone with Peter for a moment." His chin rested against my shoulder, his fingers tightening at my waist.

Ashery curtsied and fled from us. I turned to face my heart's captor, and almost cried at the sight of his dark eyes and warm smile. My heart twisted painfully, clenching harder in my chest. I reached a hand up to curve around the base of his neck. "I missed you."

He smiled gently, leaning his forehead against mine. "I missed you too. Sorry for ignoring you, love, I saw you and Susan…and I…I jumped to conclusions."

"I don't love her." I said stupidly and his mouth twitched upwards into a smile.

"Thank Aslan." He encircled my waist, pulling me flush against his body. "So, what? No punch or denial of love?"

I smacked the side of his arm and he chuckled. "No, I'm saving them for later."

He laughed, his chest rocking against mine. I felt the tense muscles of his arm against mine and reality slammed back into me. _I had to end this; I had to tell him I didn't love him. _His eyes locked on mine, his lips brushed gently against my cheek and I turned my attention back to him. He smiled, a hint of worry in the creases of his forehead. "What's the matter?"

"Can we go somewhere?" I whispered, pulling away and grasping his hand in mine, tugging him towards the door. "Now?"

He tugged me back into his arms, kissing me briefly before chuckling. "I can't, Pete, I have a meeting and the celebration is tonight."

"Please?" I tugged his head forward, kissing him passionately and desperately. The pads of his fingers pressed under my jaw, his cold palm resting against my neck, and his forehead still resting against mine. I kissed him because I was afraid. I was afraid that this would be the last time I would ever be able to do this with him; afraid that this would be the last time I would ever get to touch him. My fingernails dug into his bicep and my body lifted to press even harder to him. "_Please_."

His breathing was rushed when he pulled away and he staring at me through liquid eyes, black eyelashes fluttering against his pale cheek. I pressed my face into his neck, pushing him back against the table and winding my arms around his midsection. He moved his arms up to hold me and I could feel his heart racing against mine. I breathed his scent in, memorizing it.

"Peter…" He whispered, concern thick with his accent, "Peter, please. Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't want to lose you." I cried desperately into his neck, tightening my hold on his body. "I don't ever want to lose you."

"You won't, Pete. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you."

"Chec is going to take me back, and you're going to stay here," I inhaled shakily, "and you're going to marry that princess and have children and you're going to forget me."

"Aslan, Pete, is that what's been bothering you?" He pulled away from me, pulling out a chair from the desk and gently pushing me into it. He picked the book up off the floor and placed it on the desk, the image of three frightened children still glaring at me, and then turned back to me. His hand rested on my lower thigh as I tried to control the sobs wracking my body. "That's not going to happen, I promise."

"Y-Yes, y-yes it is." I hid my tear streaked face from his view, "S-Susan told me it would."

He ran a calloused hand through my hair, sighing gently. "That can _never_ happen, Pete. I have already sent word to the Tisroc that I will not be accepting his arranged marriage for Princess Alera and me because I have already given my heart to another. That's why I was in the Wild Lands of the North earlier, clearing my head. I decided that I would not marry, unless of course…it was to you."

"I can't give you a heir, Edmund." I stroked his cheek gently. "Your name would die off if you were to marry me."

"Susan can still marry and produce heirs;" he laughed quietly, "not _everything_ is up to me."

"The prophecy calls for two Son of Adams and two Daughters of Eve." I whispered, thrilled that I had remembered that much. "Marrying me would complete half of the prophecy, but the only way the other half could be completed is if Susan were to marry another woman."

He laughed. "That would be interesting." He shook his head gently, pressing his cold hand against my arm. "Perhaps you have forgotten that you have a sister."

"I have not forgotten."

"If you were to marry me, Lucy would be related to my sister and me through marriage. She too would be crowned Queen of Narnia." He trembled and I froze in my chair. "You do not understand how much I want you, how much I_ need_ you around. If Chec refuses my offer, I will buy your freedom. I won't let them take you from me."

I smiled appreciatively, before it turned back into a frown. I could feel my promise to Susan and my love for Edmund tearing me apart. I locked eyes with the king and I knew, _somehow I knew_, he would protect me from everything that was to follow. In many ways, I suppose I was being selfish, giving up Edmund's honor and what was right just so I could love him, but I couldn't imagine living without him or his love. I_ needed_ him, just as much as he _needed_ me. "Edmund, it still…I don't…I still don't…"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Finishing sentences might help."

"I still don't…this," I gestured between our two bodies, "can't continue."

He sighed, exasperated looking. "Now why?"

I closed my eyes and cried gently, I could feel Edmund's annoyance with my emotions rolling off of him in waves, but I didn't' much care anymore. End this and get out, that was my plan. I linked my fingers with his and kissed the side of his temple. "I don't want to be in a relationship, Edmund. I'm sorry."

"What?" I saw the hurt flash across his eyes and my chest ached. "Why not?"

"Just I don't want…especially with you." The last part came out choked, almost inaudible and I saw the hurt eat away at him and his hand tightened around mine. I released his hand and pulled away. "When you were saying things like getting married and…Lucy becoming Queen of Narnia…of living here…in this place…I don't want any of that. I don't want to live here in a grand castle. I don't want to rule a country. I don't want to be apart of this prophecy." I could see that this was killing him, but I continued forward. "I don't want this life."

"I can give up this life." Hope dwelled in his eyes and I wanted to stab myself just to ensure that I did no more damage to him. "We can leave. We'll go to the unmarked territories, no one will find us. We'll be happy. We'll be _together_."

"No, Edmund, this is your life." I pressed a finger against his chest. "It's apart of who you are. You can run, but you'll always be King of Narnia. You can't leave Narnia behind, it's your responsibility."

"Narnia is nothing without you."

The simple sentence took the breath out of my lungs and I turned away, shaking my head. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Susan slip into the room, her eyes cast downwards. Edmund seemed oblivious to her and I was almost thankful for that. I knew what I had to say and I knew it would hurt him, but it would make him go away. "I don't want you to run away with me." He gave me a hurt, confused look. "_I don't want you_."

"What are you saying?" He whispered, his tone suddenly angry. "That you don't love me?"

I nodded, but my elaboration was cut short as I felt his lips pressed harshly to mine, his body slamming mine against the back of the chair, nails digging into my wrists as he practically sat in my lap. I heard Susan gasp in the distance, but I made no move to acknowledge her presence. He pulled away, his breathing harsh and his mouth red. "Y-You don't mean that."

"I do." I whispered, tears rolling down my cheeks. "All this time, it's just been lust. I thought it was love, I really did, Edmund, but when you told me all those things, it made me realize I don't desire a relationship with you. I've just been lusting after you."

"No, you don't." He hissed, fingers tightening around my wrist. "You love me."

"I don't." I sobbed out and I saw the anger dissipate from his face. "I'm sorry, Edmund."

His hair fell in front of his dark eyes and I saw Susan's hand fly to her mouth out of the corner of my eye as she watched the scene in front of her. His entire form was shaking, his mouth angry, but his eyes hurt.

He looked to me once more, his eyes hopeful, but I lowered my head and the tears choked me as I whispered the four words I never wanted to hear myself say.

"I don't love you."

He squared his shoulders, standing to his feet, a little taller than normal, and his jaw set like stone. His eyes flashed to mine and I could see he was trying to be strong about this, but it wasn't working for him. A tear rolled down his pale cheek and hit my boot. I stood quietly.

"Why?" He whispered brokenly.

I cried gently, observing the space between us. It was only a few centimeters, but it felt like oceans...worlds maybe. I had never felt so far away from someone. "I n-never d-did. J-Just l-lust."

He grabbed my head forcefully, desperation alive in his eyes. "Look into my eyes. _Look_."

I did as he said, studying the giant brown irises and the way emotions flickered across them and stories hid behind their walls. The way I could see myself in his pupils, but it was broken image of me, broken by the tears that continued to well up in them.

"You see my heart shattering." He whispered. "When you see that does it break your heart too?"

I wanted to nod, but I shook my head.

"Even crack it?"

I shook my head again.

He dropped his hands and pulled away, "Well then, I bid you good day."

He turned on his heel, freezing when he saw his sister against the back wall. His eyes widened and then narrowed, then repeated the process. Her hand still covered a good portion of her mouth and I wanted to knock it right off and replace it with my fist. I wanted to tell her that she was the reason I was heartbroken. But, I could only slide to the ground when he disappeared down the hall, my entire form shaking with my sobs.

Susan looked down at me, her hand dropping from her mouth and pressing against her stomach. "Thank you, Peter, you did the right thing."

"Feels awfully wrong." I muttered, tears streaming my cheeks.

"It's not, Peter. He's going to prosper now, he's going to marry and have children a-"

"I don't really want to hear it, Your Majesty." I curled into myself, the gaping hole in my heart enlarging. "It hurts too much right now."

She nodded and scurried away, skirts gathered in her pale hands. I sat against the wall, staring forward as tears continued to pour down my tan cheeks. There was a reason I had spent half of my life trying _not_ to fall in love. Then King Edmund, James, my friend, had stolen my heart and now I ripped it from him, tearing both of ours in the process.

I didn't want to love anyone anymore.

* * *

Susan, of course, tried to get me to go to the celebration, but I bluntly refused. I wasn't exactly in the celebration mood; I don't think I ever would be again. Instead, I curled up in my room, a book in my lap, and attempted to try and read it. Of course, if you are illiterate like me, not much progress is made. Instead, I just skimmed through the drawings and maps of Narnia.

I did have a favorite picture though and no words were really needed to describe it. It was a rather complex and extremely detailed drawing of the Cair Paravel throne room, Edmund seated on the steps and looking towards the window, a look of deep meditation and pondering upon his younger face. He was dressed in red and chain mail, looking to be as if he had come back from the war. I wondered what he had been thinking when they had drawn this, what had been on his mind at that time.

The music from the floor above me was heard even in my room. I tried to imagine what Edmund was doing right now, but found I didn't want to. He was probably dancing with some random princess or his betrothed and that really put my ends on fire. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with that anymore.

I had to forget him, I _needed_ to forget him.

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A/N: Sorry once again, that this is such a short chapter, it just had so much emotion in it that I wanted to keep it short so that you're still left with that heartbreaking emotion that Peter is left with. Anyway, you know the drill (hopefully) ;]


	9. Lose Your Mind

A/N: Chapter 9! only 8 more to go!!!!! This chapter is hard to keep up with, but do try! :] Enjoy! Oh and btw update on Before the Storm! It's coming GREAT! I already have the first three chapters finished, and I'm planning to get to chapter five before I post it. That way I get a head start you, know!

READ!

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_Once you've lost your heart, it's only a matter of time before you lose your mind--Anyonymous _

The night was cold, dark, broken and lonely or perhaps it was warm, bright, inviting and my heart was just cold, dark and broken. Perhaps that was it. Either way, I was restless, unable to sleep with pieces of my heart banging around in my ribcage. I sat up, pushing a hand through my sweaty hair. I had hurt him. I had hurt the only man I had ever come to love. I had broken him to pieces. I looked out the window of my room and sighed. The moon still glared down at me and I half expected it to be red, like everything else in my vision. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood to my feet. I walked to my balcony, which jutted out to the west. I leaned against the railing and breathed in deeply. The cold night air froze my lungs, but I hardly cared.

I had hurt _Edmund_.

I had hurt the _King of Narnia_.

I had hurt my _love_.

It was surreal, really, to think that I had fallen in love with High King Edmund the Just, that I was standing in his castle right now, a few feet from his actual room. He was a legend, the kind of superheroes you read about in storybooks. Not the kind of person you fall in love with, at least not a slave. He was meant for this life. This was his life. I didn't belong to this life; I never had and never will.

James, on the other hand, had been, somewhat, apart of this life. The life I lived now. I found I could fall for him easier, because his name wasn't written in those storybooks, people didn't cry when he touched them, Narnians didn't whisper and gasp and spread rumors when they heard he was coming to town. They didn't tell bedtime stories about him, they didn't throw themselves at his feet. He was normal, he led a similar life to mine. He was a different person. This Edmund, this King, he felt like a completely different person, maybe because he was.

Susan was right, my being with Edmund would cause an outrage.

Maids would flood the hallways, whispering gossip into each other's ears, covering with their hands so no one could see the moving lips.

I could hear it now._ 'Did you hear? King Edmund is with that slave boy, Patrick or something', 'King Edmund took pity on a peasant!', 'It's an abomination! King Edmund is courting a—a—a slave!_'.

No, my name didn't belong with his in those storybooks. My face didn't deserve to be drawn in beside his. I would die a slave, forgotten and alone. Edmund would die a hero, a legend that would be told over thousands of years. That's the way it was meant to be. That's the way it should be.

But, Aslan, did it hurt the heart.

I shut my eyes and sighed. I should be considered lucky though. I was one of the very few people, maybe the first (though I doubted it), to know what it was like to kiss the King of Narnia, to hold him. I should consider that an honor and move on in my life. That's what I should do.

"You'll catch your death out here, you know."

I glanced up, but my railing only stood there, silent as ever. I looked to my left, but only the illuminated woods of the West lied there. I looked to my left and there he stood, dressed in robes of black silk and crimson lining. His dark eyes rested on me, before turning back out to look at the view in front of us.

"Your door was unlocked." He whispered, though I really didn't care how he got into my room. "You should make it a habit to lock it from now on. The castle grounds aren't always the safest place at night."

"And why's that?" I stuttered out.

He turned back to look at me and a twisted smile appeared on his face. "Not everyone is thrilled with my existence, you know."

I didn't quite understand, but I led it slide. I was still in shock that he was standing right here with me. I thought he would avoid me from now. Who would want to be around the man that broke your heart?

The silence hung there like a constant reminder that we would never be the way we were before. I didn't know what to say to him and he seemed to be in a similar situation. He turned and looked at me, his eyes darker, secretive. I wondered what it was like, to be a legend and everything. Was it strange looking at storybooks and seeing your face, your life, on every single page? Was it odd knowing that the entire country told stories about you and idolized you?

"What are you thinking about?"

I snapped out of my train of thoughts and shrugged. He looked at me indecorously and I sighed, "You."

He cocked an eyebrow, his intense gaze never straying from mine. "What about me? Pray tell."

"Just wondering what's it like." I said honestly.

"What it's like….?"

"To be a legend, you know." I whispered. "To be this great hero, to be…all of this."

He studied me before laughing humorlessly. "I would trade my life any day, Peter."

"Why? You have everything!"

"But you." His voice broke on the last syllable and I paused. He sighed unsteadily and stared back at the moon before staring at me again. His eyes were bleak, tentative, hurt. "And that's all that I really wanted in the first place, so why should all of this matter anymore?"

"This all mattered before." I said matter-of-factly.

"No, no, it really didn't. Nothing mattered before," He shrugged, "sure, responsibility was always there and I always paid attention to it, but none of it mattered to me. I'm not that great hero everyone talks about, Pete. I don't fight for my country; I fight because it's something I _have_ to do. I sit and listen to these," a wild gesture of his hands, "complaints, not because I care about who gets which section of land and who gets which trading right, but because it's what's required of me. I do things because I have to, not because I feel the need or desire to. I'm not a hero, Pete, I never was and I never will be."

I watched him in silence.

He smiled crookedly. "Finally starting to see me in my true light, eh?"

I stared on.

"So, you see, Pete, perhaps falling in love with me isn't such a sin after all." I opened my mouth to talk, but he held a hand up. "I'm_ just_ like you. See, Peter, you made things so much easier. I wanted to make Narnia a better place…for you. I wanted to fight because I wanted you to be free. For once in my life, I did something because I_ wanted_ to. And now, the one thing I wanted, the one thing that mattered to me in this life, won't even be with me. So, again I ask, why would anything else matter after that?"

"But you still have to do things." I said.

"Why?"

I looked at him in bewilderment. "B-Because y-you're a king!"

He shrugged, his dark eyes fixating on the sun. "Wasn't my choice."

"That doesn't change the fact t-that this is y-your responsibility." I gestured widely around. "N-Narnia is your responsibility."

"Should have considered that before."

"I didn't know who you were before!" Anger flushed through my body and I saw him jump suddenly. I could the rage circuiting through my body. "What are you even saying!?"

"My life, all of it was just responsibility and requirements and expectations and then…then you came in and all of a sudden it's…it's meaningful, it's real, it's something I'm not only forced to be a part of but want to be a part of. You made me live. Do you hear me? I wanted to live for the first time…since…since I killed my brother. Then you come in and," he furrowed his eyebrows, "destroy everything. I was cracked before I met you, a single dent in my life, and now you've not only," he made a hand motion as if he was holding a ball (a heart) in his hand and squeezed it tightly until his fingers were tightly locked together, "made that dent bigger, but you…you've shattered what was once just cracked."

"So you're saying I took away your reason to live?" I snarled.

"I'm saying you did a good amount of damage, yes."

"I'm sorry I'm not in love with you!" I cracked, the lies fresh on my tongues. "You can't guilt trip me into feeling something I don't!"

"You shouldn't lie to people, Peter!" He yelled back. I was ready to argue when he cut me off. "Do you remember what you said, Pete!? Do you!? _Do you!?"_

I shook my head.

"You said you fell in love with a man, a good man that held honesty above all else." He took my hand to his chest and his eyes were grim, somber, and hopeful. "I'm being honest with you, Pete. Why aren't you being honest with me?"

I snatched my hand away. "I-I also said I fell in love with James, not Edmund. I'm in love with someone that doesn't exist and now…now that he's gone…I just…there's nothing left for you."

"You're confusing me."

"Perhaps that's why they call this reality." I whispered. "Nothing makes sense."

"Perhaps it's time Narnia saw me in my true light than." He stood up and turned to leave.

I didn't stop him this time. I didn't turn and grab his arm, or silently beg him to stay. I continued to stare forward, as if he didn't exist to me. I heard the door click shut and I had to wonder. Could Narnia really handle the truth, the true light, about Edmund? Did they really deserve to have their perfect picture distorted?

* * *

I didn't sleep well that night. My dreams were filled with storms and battles and black robes lined with crimson blood and all too familiar eyes staring down at me. I wish, sometimes, that I had never come here. Then, maybe all of this wouldn't have happened. Maybe Edmund would still be happy.

_Knock Knock._

I rubbed my neck tiredly before going to answer the door. Susan stood on the other side, concerned and tired looking. She took one look at my unkempt hair and giggled. "You're hair always looks peculiar in the morning."

"know." I said, not really in the mood to smile, and reached a hand up to flatten my hair. "Doesn't yours?"

"Oh yes, but I have my own personal hair stylist." She smiled. "I wake up and they start at my hair almost immediately."

"I need one of those." I smiled, opening the door a little wider to let her inside. She sat on the edge of my bed, patting a spot next to her. I shifted awkwardly before taking a seat next to her. I was really of no appearance to be in the sight of a queen. My shirt was wrinkled and half open, baring my tan chest, and my pants were crinkled and I was still barefoot. Then there was the matter of my hair, which I'm not even going to cover. It was really that bad. "Er, is Edmund up?"

Her smile turned to a frown and she nodded. "More than likely, Oreius has him training by sunrise." She glanced outside the window. "I join him for archery lessons in a few minutes. Then it's just a whirlwind after that."

"You're busy all day?"

"From sunrise to after sunset." She made a tired expression and smiled. "If you hurry, we can catch the last few minutes of his training."

I nodded, standing to my feet and going to my wardrobe. I slipped my shirt off, straightening it and readying it for a hanger. I almost dropped it when I opened the doors though. The wardrobe was packed, and I'm talking, packed. Tunics and trousers of all different colors were hung along the top. Undergarments and undershirts were folded neatly along the bottom shelf; beside the shelf were numerous boots. I ran my fingers over the tunic nearest to me. Leather. Expensive, real leather.

"How long have these been in here?" I choked out, dragging my hand over each and every seam.

"Since yesterday. Edmund felt incredibly guilty about ignoring you during his return. Especially, after I explained things to him and so," she sighed, "he ordered the seamstress to put together an entire wardrobe for you."

I looked down, Edmund's hurt and angry eyes flashing through my mind. "Perhaps I should give them back."

"I wouldn't." She stood up, her dainty fingers brushing over the back of neck as she came to stand behind me. "Edmund had them fitted just for you. Everything in there is designed _just_ for _you_."

I stared at the clothes.

"Now I don't know how you prefer to dress. I usually base my choice of color off of the mood I'm feeling or the weather outside. Edmund sticks to darker colors. Either way, you can choose how to dress. Just…just don't put black and brown together." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Please."

I smiled. "I don't even know what matches, Your Majesty. Couldn't he have gotten me a wardrobe of just browns? That way I could never go wrong?"

"That would be rather boring, don't you think?" She reached over and picked out a sky-blue, long-sleeved tunic with a rounded neck. She handed it to me, before flipping through the other shirts. "You look good in lighter colors, because of your skin tone and eyes." She plucked a burgundy leather jerkin with a slight v-neck in the front. She then rummaged through the trousers, picking out a pair of dark tan knit hose and handing them to me. I shifted on my feet, just in time to have knee-high, brown, leather boots placed on top of my arms.

"Done yet?" I teased.

She smiled and nodded. "Go put those on."

I bowed dramatically and she swatted the side of my head, pushing me into the bathroom. I closed the door behind me, changing quickly and setting my dirty clothes on the side of the tub (I had a tub! In my room!). After I finished pulling the boots on, I studied myself in the long mirror. I didn't look like myself. I didn't look like a slave. I looked…I looked like I belonged on the castle ground. One quick look back to my face, to the scarred flesh there, and I was quickly reminded about who I really was.

A slave, a peasant.

Maybe I did have an obsession with the caste system.

"Peter, are you decent?"

I opened the door silently, her concerned eyes settling on my face. I just nodded and brushed past her, walking towards the door. "Let's go."

"Wait." I looked back and my eyes fixated on the sword and belt in her hands. It was long and narrow…and it was mine. It was the one that Edmund had bought me back in the village. The belt was there too, and the scabbard. I took it wordlessly, licking my lips. "H-He held onto it all this time."

She nodded faintly as I wrapped it around my waist and did up the buckle. She led me out the door, down three or four flights of stairs, through a few hallways, down another flight of stairs and past a gate.

The arena was massive, stretching the entire width of the castle. Dimly lit torches cast an eerie glow over the grounds, illuminating the many weapons lined up on the side. At the far end of the arena were two young fauns, their bodies twisting and writhing as they learned the arts of a swordsman. Their instruction stood a little ways away, watching them with a critical expression. A few yards away from them stood a centaur and faun, both well in their adult years. They handled the swords easily, as if they had been doing this for years. On the other end of the arena (the area closest to us) was another centaur, Oreius I suspected. In front of him was a hunched over figure, their hands clutching at their knees as they tried to catch their breath. He stood up, spitting on the ground and twisting the sword experimentally in his hand.

Oreius fixed him with a stern look and patted him on the back. "One more time."

Edmund nodded, pulling back and wiping his brow. He stepped forward with one foot, the sword twisting behind his back before he brought it over his head and slashed down against the imaginary enemy. The sword stayed low to the ground as he spun around, unsheathing his second sword in the process. Now with two swords, he brought them both horizontally, parallel to each other, against the air. He then went into a series out slashes and swipes, too fast for the human eye. He grunted when he spun back around, sheathing the second sword and returning to fighting with one. It was all so fast, so graceful, so incredibly dangerous that it captivated me.

"And now." Oreius instructed.

Edmund turned, spinning in his spot and threw his sword with surprising strength. It hit and sunk into the target a few yards away from where he stood. Within a few seconds, his other sword was unsheathed and lying in his hand, ready to battle again. Oreius smiled and clapped him on the back.

"Well done."

Edmund nodded thankfully, hunching over again as he struggled to catch his breath. Sweat dripped from his brow and he was shaking slightly, his back rising and falling quickly. Beside me, Susan clapped her hands together loudly. Edmund turned to her, a dark expression in his eyes. He stood to his feet, sheathing his sword and retrieving his other from the target. The black sleeveless shirt clung to his skin, damp in places where the sweat had soaked through, as he moved towards us.

"That was wonderful, Edmund!" Susan beamed at him.

Edmund did not pause or pay any heed to her, but continued forward, wiping his brow with his forearm. He glanced at me temporarily, the flame that had ignited last night suddenly burning so much brighter. I back away fearfully and Susan reached forward, catching the edge of his tunic.

"What's with you, Edmund? Someone would think you lost a loved one judging by your expression." She whispered.

His eyes flickered to me and for a minute, just a minute, I saw longing and hurt pass through those stone eyes. "I did." He turned and followed Oreius out, casting a glance over his shoulder. "And, Su, you better hurry up. Archery starts in five."

"Edmund!" Susan called again and he paused, turning to face her. "Princess Alera arrives today. I expect you to look presentable by the time she gets here."

"When is she expected to arrive?" His voice was dead. I shifted awkwardly in the background, my heart clenching at the thought of some girl trying to woo Edmund. _My Edmund_. He isn't mine, I had to remember that. He belonged with some princess, someone that could be in those storybooks along with him.

"Around mid-day I heard."

He nodded, turning and exiting through the gate. I stood with Susan for sometime, neither of us speaking, neither of us trusting ourselves to speak. We both knew what was crossing through Edmund's mind at this moment. He was angry against both of us, because he felt that both of us had done this to him, both of us had broken his heart. It was true, but he wasn't supposed to know that.

"Do you want to come to archery practice with me, Peter?"

I looked at Susan solemnly and shook my head. I really just wanted sometime to myself and going to archery practice with the two people that seemingly destroyed my life (Edmund for making me fall in love with him, Susan for making me break Edmund's heart) didn't seem the way to go. I shook my head and walked up to my room, shutting the door behind me and taking a seat on my bed. I sighed, pressing my fingers into my hair and breathed. I just wanted a break from all of this. I didn't want to be in love with Edmund, I didn't want to be responsible for Edmund's anger, I didn't want to be jealous of Princess Alera's arrival, I didn't want any of this. Was the life in the castle always this dramatic? For once in my life, part of me wanted to go back, back to the life of slavery and poverty.

I laid back against the pillows, closing my eyes and pressing another pillow to the front of my face. I breathed in the meadow, grassy, spring smell that seemed to be embedded in the pillow. I don't ever remember falling asleep, but I must have because the next thing I knew someone was knocking on the door and I was rolling onto my back again. I stood up, checked a quick glance in the mirror and sighed. My hair was sticking out in every direction as usual. I pressed my palm to the top of my skull and drug it downwards, flattening it. I half-jogged to the door, pausing to straighten my shirt. I opened it and just beyond that door was singly the most attractive woman I had ever come across.

Tan skin stretched out across flawless skin. Long, dark brown hair fell down in gentle waves across her face, stopping at her waist. Dark blue eyes peered out through long eyelashes, her high cheekbones becoming more defined as a smile (with extremely white teeth) stretched out across her perfect full lips. A gold bodice was stretched underneath a gold vest, dipping to reveal even more tan flesh. Over it was a sky-blue, transparent sash with long, billowing sleeves lined in gold ribbon. It draped over her back to her waist, the transparent fabric revealing a good amount of skin in the back. A long, royal blue skirt flowed to her feet, also lined in gold. She was picture perfect. She was too beautiful.

"Hello." She smiled, revealing too straight, too white teeth. "My name is Princess Alera."

"Er, hello." I extended my hand out towards her, suprised that the princess of who knows what was speaking to me of all people. What was even more awkward was the fact that this was Edmund's betrothed and I had been Edmund's lover...and it was just awkward. "Peter."

"It's nice to meet you, Sir Peter." She looked past me, before glancing towards me again. "May I come in?"

"Er, I guess." I shrugged, stepping out of the way to let her in.

She moved with such grace and poise that I had a strange urge to knock her off balance, just to see if she would even look graceful falling. She studied the room with fantastic eyes, before taking a seat in a chair to the far side of the room. She stared at me before gesturing to the seat in front of her. I cocked my head in confusion before wordlessly taking the seat next to her.

"I apologize for intruding, kind sir." She smiled again. "I just had to meet you."

"Me?" I scoffed. "Why in Aslan's mane, would you want to meet me?"

"Why wouldn't I want to meet the man Queen Susan speaks of so dearly?" She leaned forward earnestly. "She is my close and personal friend."

"Queen Susan speaks of me…dearly?" I raised an eyebrow, pushing a blonde strand away from my face.

"Oh yes! I can say," she smiled at me, "she picked a handsome one."

"Whoa. Hold up." I held my hands up. Susan was speaking to me dearly? What did this mean? Why was my life becoming a whirlwind of love!? "What do you mean she picked a handsome one?"

"Well certainly you're planning on courting the Queen of Narnia, are you not?" She gave me another blinding smile. How in the world was I suppose to tell her that I had not fallen for the Queen of Narnia, but for the King of Narnia, who also happened to be her future husband? She gasped, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Oh my. Are you meaning to tell me I have revealed something that was not meant to be known?"

I shrugged. "I don't know…did you?"

"Well, I'm afraid I might reveal even more if I d-"

"Excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but I need a moment alone with…er…Peter?...yes, Peter."

I turned around, immediately jumping to my feet as I took in the sight of Chec. He was standing by the door, his eyes fixated on my face, a dark expression on his face. He wore a royal blue color that washed him out, but made his dark eyes all the more intimidating. He turned back to the princess and smiled that yellow-toothed smile. "Would you excuse us, milady?"

She stood to leave, gathering her skirts and casting a quick glance to me. She must have seen the look of fear that passed through my eyes, because her face grew weary and concerned and she rushed out of the room. I stood awkwardly as Chec came to stand in front of me.

"So, the king's whore has made quite the name for himself, has he? Charming both the King and Queen? And now the King's _betrothed_?" He smiled, laughing dryly. "You _whore_. Someone ought to mess you up."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the next thing I knew my cheek was against the wall of my room, my arm twisted roughly behind my back. His forehead was against the back of my head and his hand was shoved roughly down the front of my pants. "Someone ought to mess you up." He whispered hoarsely, his fingers brushing over my member.

I jumped, fear screaming through my body. I kicked back against him, but his chest slammed into my back, pressing me back against the wall. He was going to_ rape_ me, he was going to take my virginity, and he was going to take the one thing that separated me from the Untouchables. I screamed but it was muffled against the wall, hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

_Edmund. Edmund. Edmund. Edmund. Edmund, please, please save me._

His fingers undid my belt and the tie to my pants. He pulled them down without hesitating and his fingers settled back to stroking my member. I closed my eyes, his fingernails scratching against my back, and tried to think of something, anything to relieve me of this. I tried to conjure up images of Edmund. Edmund's long, calloused fingers touching me gently instead of Chec's short, stubby, rough ones. Edmund's thick, battle-hardened chest lying gently against my back instead of Chec's soft, wrinkled flesh.

_Edmund. Edmund. Edmund. Edmund. Edmund._

I heard his pants drop behind me, felt him against me, heard his breathing in my ear. I squeezed my eyes shut, broken cries emerging from within my throat, a last attempt at being saved. What had I done to deserve this life, this confusion?

"_Get away from him!"_

My eyes snapped open just in time to see a flash of black and metal and then Chec was gone. I slumped to the ground, covering myself in a vain attempt to keep my modesty. I looked towards the door, watching as Susan stared at me in horror, her hand covering her mouth and tears tracking her face. Princess Alera stood beside her, mouth open in shock.

Two guards rushed into the room and I hurriedly tugged my pants up before curling into a ball. The guards surrounded Chec, holding their swords to his neck. He gazed up at them, not caring that he was still naked from the waist down. Edmund's sword pressed harder against the tan neck, kneeling down so he was face to face with the disgusting man.

"If I even find so much as one scratch on his body then you had better hope for a quick death." He stood to his feet, sheathing his sword and signaling the guards forward. "Arrest him."

"You can't arrest me!" Chec yelled, kicking forward as a guard pulled him to his feet. He whipped around, his face dangerously close to Edmund's. "Listen, 'King', I abide by Archland's rules, not Narnia's. That man is my property." He made a wild gesture with his head in my direction. "Lover or not, he still belongs to me. I am free to do with him as I want."

"You were raping him." Edmund growled. "As far as I know that is a crime anywhere. Correct me if I'm wrong."

"Is a man free to plant in his fields?" Chec countered.

Edmund cocked an eyebrow, not amused and unimpressed. "Yes."

"Is it not the same for slaves?"

Edmund's eyes narrowed and his voice was tight with anger. "Believe it or not, slaves happen to be human beings. I will not arrest you, but I will hold you accountable for this. Do not expect my mercy to be bestowed upon you."

"I would never expect such a thing from a King of Narnia." Chec snarled.

"Depart from me," He waved the man off, "before I behead you."

Susan rushed forward, her dainty fingers clasping around my bicep as she pulled me to my feet. I was shaking, I was well aware of that, and I knew I had a wild look in my eyes that was probably scaring everyone to death. Her fingers brushed away a strand of hair, Princess Alera's hands against my arm. Edmund stood behind them, his sword still drawn but pointed down lazily.

"Edmund." Susan called behind her shoulder, her eyes studying mine intensely. "Edmund."

Everything was becoming blurry. Edmund's face was starting to look unfamiliar.

"Edmund."

No response. His dark eyes were still watching me, his face a mixture of turmoil and uncertainty.

_"Edmund!"_

My eyes rolled back in my head as I slumped against the wall, and fell to the ground. I could hear Susan's and Alera's panic as I struggled to keep conscious, but my eyes were only fixated on one thing.

The immobile figure of Edmund, his dark eyes still fixated on my face. Susan's shouts grew louder, more frantic as I started to slip off the edge of consciousness. All I could see was brown, brown, brown, black, black, black.

Blackness.

* * *

A/N: AH POOR PETER!! Edmund is coming across as an awfully mean character, isn't he? READ AND REVIEW!!!!!


	10. Beginning of the End

A/N: Chapter 10!! Only 7 more to go!! This one isn't as long as I planned...but hopefully long enough! :] enjoy it!! SHORTEST CHAPTER YET! DON'T HATE ME! The next chapter will be at least 10 or 11 pages long so look forward to that one!

READ!

* * *

_It's the beginning of the end  
And I don't know where we lost control  
It's the beginning of the end_  
_--Spineshake_

Voices pounded in my ears, darkness swirling around me. Lights threatened to break through my eyelids and burn my retnas. I groaned, rolling over and pressed my fingers to my temple. I heard the rustling of skirts and a short gasp from somewhere to my left. I rolled over, my eyelids cracking open only slightly. There, against the window, a silhouette, were two figures. One was much taller than the other, a good foot or so, lean and built. The other was tall as well, but his build was less thick, more athletic instead of brute strength.

Edmund.

I groaned again and both of their heads turned towards me, the conversation dying on their lips. Within a few seconds, dainty fingertips were tracing my cheekbone. I focused on the face that I now recognized as Susan. Princess Alera was off to the side, while Edmund and the other man remained silent.

"Peter? Peter?" She whispered, but the words pounded into my ears. Her delicate fingers turned hard, rough, long nails dragging over my cheek. I jumped away from the hand, afraid that it might hurt me. The face had been Susan, but…but the fingers had been Chec. Chec had touched me...inappropriately. He had almost taken my virginity. I trembled as the ghost of Chec's hands flew over my hips. I could almost feel him, his hardness against me, his nails digging into my back and hips, his lips against my neck. Susan was staring at me with worry, concern, and panic. I squeezed my eyelids together, a trembling mass of fear.

"Edmund!" Susan suddenly shouted though Edmund was only standing a few feet away, his head angled towards me. "_Edmund!_ Something's wrong with him!"

I heard the large sigh and shaky breathing. "I can't do anything about that, Susan."

Susan glared over at him and he shrugged apologetically. I looked towards him and he glanced back at me. I bit my lip, trying to stop the trembling that had overtaken my body and overcome the fear that had plugged my senses. He looked down at his clenched fist and I could see the way his veins became more definite around his wrist and forearm. I could see the inner turmoil in his downcast face. He looked up at the other man once more, then Susan, and then finally me before exiting the room, the door clicking behind him.

I stared after him for a good thirty seconds before I rolled over on my stomach, pressing my face to the pillow. Susan pressed a gentle hand to my shoulder, but I shrugged it off, trying to be somewhat nice about it. She pulled back and sighed, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of my head. "We're here if you need us."

With that, they exited the room, all of them, even the strange man. I wrapped my arms around the pillow and cried as everything slammed back into me. Edmund's seemingly endless amount of hate and hostility, Chec's attempted rape, the looming war, Susan's 'hidden' feelings, Princess Alera's arranged marriage to Edmund, and most of all, my broken relationship with Edmund. I wanted this all to end. I wanted to go back to where Edmund was still James and we were still at the waterhole, splashing around and wrestling. Those were simpler times. I_ missed those times_.

I didn't allow myself to cry, but instead pressed my face against the sheets and willed myself to sleep.

* * *

"Peter. Peter." Soft, smoothing hands rubbing circles in my back. "Peter, you need to get up. Come on, Peter."

I rolled over, accidentally whacking the arm of my awakener. I sat up, banging foreheads with the person again and slumping back against the pillow. Susan rubbed her forehead and winced. "Goodness, Pete."

I sat up, slower this time, and looked around. "Hmmm?"

"You need to get up." She repeated. "The meeting is in five minutes. Your presence is required there."

I nodded, yawning as I swung my feet over the side of the bed, straying away from her hand. Even though I knew it was Susan and she wouldn't hurt me, human touch alone scared me right now, but I knew I had to stay strong...for the meeting at least. I dressed in a gray trousers, and a royal blue cotton tunic with the string untied in the front, baring my chest. Susan was wearing A red bodice with an angled square neckline, five vertical slashes just below that, revealing the cream-colored fabric underneath. The dress flowed down past her ankles, deep red like blood, but the gold of her sleeves stood out dramatically, completing the rather fancy outfit. Her hair was wavy, tumbling down her back to her waist. She looked absolutely stunning and here I was, standing in knee-high boots, trousers, and a cotton tunic.

"You look beautiful, Susan." I smiled and she blushed. I had to remember I couldn't lead her on, that would only upset her and Edmund.

We walked out of the room, the slave and the queen, and started up the confusing hallways. We eventually arrived at a much larger room. Large wooden doors opened up to reveal a rather bland room. Upon the walls were very few pictures and what pictures there were, were drawings of battles and victories. In the center of the room was a large, oak table, stretching out from one end of the room to the next. Several chairs bordered the table. At the head of each end of the table was a throne. Several men were already seated at the table, flipping through papers on the desk. Susan led me to a chair at the far end of the table, towards the throne.

"Chec will sit there, alright?" She gestured to the chair directly beside me.

I tensed.

"Peter, he isn't going to hurt you, okay? Edmund and I are right here." She gestured to the throne a few chairs away and then at the one at the other end of the table. "We won't let him hurt you again, okay?"

I nodded, fingers clenching the arm rest of the chair.

Chec arrived within a few minutes, pulling the chair out beside me and taking a seat. His lip was split, the angry red line traveling down his mouth, and his eye was covered with a bruise, black and purple, from Edmund's punch. I scooted as far away as I could without touching the man on my other side. Chec didn't even glance at me, his stone-hard, yellow eyes turned towards the entrance to the room. He had four slaves masters with him and one man I did not recognize. Two sat on one side of him, while the others sat on the other side of me. The strange man was directly across from him.

"All rise for the High King of Narnia, King Edmund the Jest."

I watched as everyone stood to there feet, even Susan, who had been busying herself with a conversation. I stood up awkwardly, watching as Edmund entered the room. He wore black pants, black knee-high boots, and a white silk tunic with black linings. His cape was black with an elegant design in white along the back of it. He looked regal and handsome, every bit of a king. Behind him, ten men followed, taking their seats around him. I guessed these people to be his advisors but I was never sure.

"You may sit." He announced, his voice almost unrecognizable to me. He took a seat too, resting his back against the throne as he looked around at the table. "Chec, you have called forth this meeting and so, you will have the opening statement."

Chec nodded, but I could see the way his eyes seemed to darken when he looked at Edmund. "I have called forth this meeting because what the King is asking of me is preposterous!"

"We are asking you to obey Narnian laws. That is hardly 'preposterous'!" One of Edmund's advisors snarled.

"I do not abide by Narnian laws, kind sir." He muttered. "I am not of Narnian blood."

"You are within Narnian borders, therefore, you must abide to all Narnian laws!"

"I was not aware I was within those boundaries! Do you really expect me to forfeit all property to you when I was not aware that I was breaking a law?" He turned to Edmund, eyes stormy. "Is that really just, King Edmund?"

Edmund was silent, his eyes cast toward the ground. He bit his lip before replying weakly. "Is it really just to treat humans as if they are nothing more than a piece of land?"

Chec's jaw set and he turned to me. His critical eyes studied me for a minute before turning back to Edmund. "Do you not see him?" Edmund's eyes flickered over to me and I watched the sadness creep into his pupils. Chec continued heartlessly, "He is clean, dressed well, and in fine health. I see nothing wrong with what I am doing."

Edmund leaned forward, his eyes fiery and his voice ice. "He came dressed in nothing but scraps that he has worn for several years now and my healer has informed that he suffers from malnutrition and severe cuts and untreated broken bones. He wears the clothes I supplied him with and is in good health due to our foods, _none_ of it was your doing. Oh and perhaps you forgot that you attempted to rape him. I see a hell lot of things wrong with what you're doing."

The table seemed to freeze staring at Chec while he continued to glare at the king. I watched Edmund lean back, his elbows on the arm rests and his hands folding in front of his face. "Now, due to the fact that you were unaware, I'm willing to press minimal charges. If you continue to argue, more severe consequences will be taken."

"What are the minimal charges?"

"Removal from Narnian territory and a permanent ban from owning any property in Narnia, as well as the freedom of him," he gestured towards me, "and his sister."

"No." Chec banged his fist against the table. "You cannot punish me for breaking laws that are not mine to follow! This is absurd and unjust!"

"You are a traitor of Narnia." Edmund replied calmly. "I could have you beheaded."

"Well then, you'd have to behead yourself." Chec smirked, his hair falling in front of his yellow, twisted eyes. Edmund froze, as did Susan. The man continued on though, not caring what seemed to happen to Edmund's feelings. "You thought I didn't know, didn't you? Perhaps it's time that you learned that your treachery is known throughout the world. How can anyone forget the story of a brother and the death he brought amongst his siblings. I used to think it was just a tall tale, you know?" He sat back, a pleased smile upon his face. I glared at him, hoping it was intimidating him. "I mean it couldn't be true, could it? There isn't anyone really _that_ heartless."

Edmund's jaw set, his eyes clouding over to the point where I could not read his emotions. Susan tensed in her throne, watching her brother's hand curl into a fist. Chec licked his lips, satisfied with the reaction. "So King Edmund I ask you, could you really kill a traitor when you are guilty of the same thing?"

Edmund closed his eyes, the veins in his hand in danger of popping. "Aslan died for me. My treason has been paid for."

"So let me get this right." The ugly man sat forward. "You kill two of your siblings and hundreds of Narnians, when I haven't killed anyone, and you're saying I deserve a death sentence? Whose the traitor and the murder in this room?"

"Sire, what happens in the past stays in the past." Susan forced out through gritted teeth. "Edmund has been redeemed for what he has done. He is guilty and regretful, where as you show no remorse towards what you have done, nor any sign of stopping. So I ask, whose the redeemed and whose the fool?"

The room was silent for a minute before Chec shook his head. "I do not accept the charges."

"We weren't looking for your approval." An advisor snapped.

I saw it happen all too fast. There was a flash of metal, bloody metal, and then I was yanked out of my chair, my cheek against the wood of the table. My hand was twisted behind my back again and flashbacks reeled through my mind. A knife was pressed to my neck and I could feel it starting to cut me. Several advisors stood to their feet, gasping. Susan jumped out of her seat, her hand flying to her mouth. Edmund went white in the face, panic in his eyes.

"You have killed and watched those you love die. Your sister says you are redeemed." The knife pressed closer to my neck. "But are you really? Can you really watch another loved one die, just as you watched your brother?"

"Put the knife down." Edmund snarled, his guards inching forward.

The knife only pressed closer and I winced. I didn't want to die and Aslan, was I afraid. I could feel the tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. Chec's men surrounded us, shielding us from any rescuers. One man made the lung and I found myself standing, my arm still twisted and Chec pressed behind my back. The knife was still at my throat and a faint trickle of blood made it's way down. The man hesitated, backing away.

"By Aslan, put the knife down!" Edmund's voice was frantic now, standing out of his chair and I could see the way his hands clenched and unclenched in worry.

"Not until you listen to me!"

"I am listening!" Edmund yelled hoarsely.

"I will not accept the charges and I will not appease to Narnian laws." He growled, his mouth against my ear. "You lose your whore if you even try and disagree."

"You have sinned against Narnia, against Aslan!"

"I have done no such thing!"

Edmund stayed silent, his eyes on my throat. "Please release him."

"You would like it if I did, wouldn't you?" He chuckled, pressing his lips to my ear. I cowered away and I saw Edmund tense, eyes flashing anger.

"Slavery is illegal, accept the charges and leave!"

"Archland would agree with me on this matter, you know!" He smiled darkly. "I have their alliance!"

Princess Alera, who had been seated next to Susan, stood up. "We have Calormen and the Lone Islands. So perhaps, you should release the man and leave...,before someone gets hurt."

"Archland is a strong ally! Stronger than either of those! Did I also mention that I am in contact with some Free Narnians?"

"So, are you declaring war on us?" Edmund shout out sarcastically.

Chec smiled and nodded. Edmund froze. I could feel the somber mood that passed over the room and then Chec was it again. "I release to you the boy. You'll need all the help you can get in this war. I do intend," he smiled wickedly, "to _wipe Narnia out_."

He shoved me towards Edmund, my head bouncing against his shoulder as I stumbled. Edmund's hands found my shoulders and he moved me behind him, standing between Chec and I. I clung to a piece of his tunic, wondering when this had gotten out of control. Chec glared at all of us, before exiting the room, his men following him. The remaining of us stood there in silence for sometime.

"Sire?" An advisor spoke. "What do you propose we do?"

Edmund didn't speak for several minutes, his eyes cast elsewhere. He turned to look at me and I was aware of everyone's eyes on us. He turned back to the table, licking his lips and glancing at Susan. "Prepare for war."

"Surely, you don't intend to follow through with this war...we can hardly afford it."

"No, we will go to war." He said darkly. "We either die fighting or die here. Contact Calormen and the Lone Islands. Alert them on the oncoming war. If they do not agree to fight with us, we will fight alone."

"That's suicide!"

Edmund nodded, his hair falling in front of his dark eyes as he smiled darkly. "Perhaps this is Narnia's final stand." He left without another word, leaving me scared to death and the rest of us tense with worry.

Susan trailed after him, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to think of something accurate to say. I stood rooted to my spot with fear. War? War against Archland and Chec and the Free Narnians? I wasn't stupid enough not to be aware of the Free Narnians' hatred towards Edmund. I clumsily followed Susan out the door, grabbing her arm.

"I have to go back." I mumbled. Her eyebrow raised.

"Why?"

"I have to save Lucy." My hand was trembling, I didn't care. "I won't let her be caught up in the middle of the war. I _have _to save her."

"Peter, bringing her back here will only drag her into the center of the war. Cair Paravel is the least safe place during Narnia."

"I'm free. Chec granted me my freedom." I was speaking too fast, but it was all falling in place. "I could buy her freedom and we could run. I'd take her up north to the unmarked territories. She'd be safe."

"With what money, Pete?"

"I don't know, but, please, please, let me save her." I was about to get on my hands and knees and just beg. "I can't lose her."

She watched me for a minute, before turning away, flinging her hair over her shoulder. "I'll talk to Edmund."

I didn't really know what to do with myself anymore. I didn't feel like I quiet belonged here yet, or I never would. I wandered back to my room and collapsed against the wall. I would just wait for Susan, that's all I could do. However, Susan never came and found me, even after the sunset. I was alone, alone and unsure of what was about to happen.

The next morning, I was awoken to the sound of yelling. Normally, I was use to it, but in Cair Paravel, I had never heard anyone speak above a whisper. I jumped out of bed, grabbing my shirt and slipping it on. I opened the door and was greeted by the sight of Edmund's dark eyes and Susan's flushed face. I stepped back, easily feeling the tense air.

Susan smiled tightly at me. "Good morning, Peter."

"Morning." I whispered back, casting a look towards Edmund, who was fixated on the floor and biting his lower lip. "Morning, Edmund."

He lifted those dark, liquid eyes toward me and nodded. "Morning."

"I heard yelling." I whispered, closing my door behind my back and stepping into the hallway. "What happened?"

"Nothing." Susan hissed, glaring at Edmund. "Nothing happened and that's exactly the point. Nothing is happening because no one is doing anything!"

"About what?" I asked, watching as Edmund tensed visibly.

"Oh, nothing. Other than the fact that Archland has another ally from the western lands and the Lone Islands are refusing to fight with us, so that leaves it four against two, and Edmund isn't doing anything about this." She glared at him again. "We're going to die, Edmund!"

"I don't really care." Edmund mumbled.

I locked eyes with him, his conversation flashing through my mind. "Narnia isn't ready to see you in your true light, Edmund."

Edmund smirked. "Sometimes the truth is painful."

"Sometimes people don't need to know the truth, not if the lie protects them. Sometimes the lie is enough to make them feel protected." I sighed, "You need to be their hero, Ed. Whether you're the reluctant hero or the true hero, you need to be the hero."

He stepped forward, smirking darkly. "Sometimes even heroes _fall_." With that, he brushed past me, leaving Susan and I alone in the hall.

I looked back at Susan, judging her reaction to his statement. She looked at me, sad, blue eyes never leaving my face. I bit my lip and looked down the hall towards Edmund's retreating figure. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and smiled weakly, "I'm sorry you have to see this."

"See what?"

"Narnia's end." At my gasp, she continued. "I wish you could have seen Cair Paravel before, when it was beautiful and peaceful. I'm sorry you had to see this happen, I'm sorry you have to be here for this."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Edmund was right, this is Narnia's final stand."

"We don't know that."

"With a king that no longer cares for his country and uneven sides, yes, yes we do know that."

I watched her face scrunch up and a single tear slid down her cheek. She brushed her fingers over my hand at my side and smiled, though I could tell it was more of a grimace. "_This is the beginning of the end, Peter_."

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A/N: AHHHHH!!!! Narnia's end! So cliche! AH!! ...anyway Before the Storm is actually coming pretty well, I expect to have it up pretty soon. It's freakin long though, let me tell u that!


	11. Set Fire to the Rain

**A/N: I know, I know, I know. You guys thought I died. Perfectly acceptable thought, but no I did not! I was just busy with stuff, ya know? I'm going to the army and I've been busy with training and school and all that stuff, but I'm alive and i'm updating! It's been awhile since I've written anything so bear with me!**

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_But I set fire to the rain_  
_Watched it pour as I touched your face_  
_Let it burn while I cried_  
_Because I heard it screaming out your name_  
_- Adele_

War was a devastating thing in itself. Before now, I had never seen its effect on people and how it destroys the strongest of relationships. This war, this civil war, would bring an end to everyone I know and what was I supposed to do? I couldn't just continue to sit here and watch anymore. Susan had accused Edmund of abusing his powers when he consented to war, which of course hadn't set well with Edmund. Now, a meeting was set to take place this afternoon, where he would give an elaborate speech.

I seated myself behind Mr. Tumnus, who sat facing the throne, his eyes dark and frightened. I patted him on the shoulder, leaning over to whisper in his ear, "You okay?"

"No. I have a terrible feeling about this." He trembled, motioning towards the throne as Orieus stood in front of everyone.

His voice rang loud and clear, causing everyone to immediately quiet down. "All rise."

We stood, as is routine, and watched as Edmund approached his throne and stood in front of the table that had been placed there, setting a few papers on the desk. He looked up at all of us, then back to his sister. Clearing his throat, he gazed out at all of his, his eyes catching mine and holding them. "I, Edmund, High King of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of Cair Paravel, Duke of Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, Ruler of the Great Western Wood and Guardian of the Northern Sky, have hereby called forth a meeting to discuss the matters at hand. Many worry that I am betraying my country once again and that I should forfeit my crown to the Order of the Table. Citizens, the state of monarchy is the supremest thing upon earth; for kings are not only Aslan's lieutenants upon earth, and sit upon Aslan's throne in His country, but even by Aslan himself they are called gods. Kings are justly called gods, for that they exercise a manner or resemblance of divine power upon earth. For if you will consider the attributes to Aslan, you shall see how they agree in the person of a king."

He paused momentarily, before continuing, "Aslan hath power to create, or destroy, make or unmake at his pleasure, to give life or send death, to judge all, and to judged nor accountable to none; to raise low things, and to make high things low, and to Aslan are both soul and body due. Now, to draw the parallel. Kings can make and unmake their subjects: they have power of raising, and casting down: of life and of death: judges over all their subjects, and in all causes, and yet accountable to none but Aslan only. They have the power to exalt low things, and abase high things, and make of their subjects like men at the chest. And to the king is both due the affection of the soul, and the service of the body of his subjects.

"A king governing in a settled kingdom, leaves to be a king, and degenerates into a tyrant as soon as he leaves off to rule according to his laws. This is not the case with me. Aslan never leaves kings unpunished when they transgress the limits; the higher of a rank we are placed, the greater shall our fall be. Therefore, all kings that are not tyrants, or perjured, will be glad to bound themselves within the limits of their laws; just as I have. I say this to reassure you, but I also say this to tell you that removing my crown would be blasphemy. Removing the power anointed to me by Aslan, without sufficient reason, would be disputing his power and committing a sin. That is why I am here today. Citizens, there has been treason amongst us."

People shifted uncomfortably in their seats and whispered to one another, wondering exactly what Edmund was dong. He lowered his head, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. He turned to stare at his sister, who looked at him from her throne with a mix of confusion.

"My own dear sister, Queen Susan, has committed treason against me," gasps filled the room and Susan stood to her feet, immediately denying it, "hush, sister. She has come up with a plot to remove my crown from me and, in the process of doing so, attain all legal powers. I will not pretend that I do not hear the whispers in the hall or the plots to overthrow me. Queen Susan has become a threat and until an explanation is offered and the plot to overthrow is diminished, all power must be removed from her political figure, as the Law of the Lion requires."

He motioned for guards to step onto the platform, quickly gesturing to his sister. The crowd watched in devastation as the crown was removed from Susan's head, "I, hereby, remove the crown, as well as all legal powers from Queen Susan of the Radiant Southern Sun. This shall go into effect immediately," he paused as Susan approached his side.

"You can not remove my crown, Edmund. Aslan anointed me himself." She whispered harshly as she pulled him aside.

"You chose to plot against me." He pointed to the paper in his hand, "the Law calls for your powers to be removed."

"I never plotted against you!"

"You questioned my power, my relationships, my choices, and my reign. You were in my way. "

"I must stand trial. You alone can not remove my crown."

He smiled his infamous half-smile, "That is where you are wrong. When John died, I became High King. I have direct authority over you and every other King or Queen in this nation. I'm sorry, but you are simply an advisor. Now, I need to finish my speech."

She scoffed at him, though he ignored her and continued his speech, "On another note, due to associating with Queen Susan in her plot to overthrow, as well as going against my judgment, the powers of the Noble Order of the Table are hereby nullified and made void. All powers of ambassadors, committees, orders, and advisors have been made void. The Noble Order of the Table is, hereby, abolished. All powers shall be transferred, as according to the law, to the highest person in power. I will be resuming all power until a resolution is reached. I assure you, I will do everything in my power to keep you and your children safe. Thank you."

He whirled around on his heel, passing Susan's tearful face on the way, and exiting through the side door way. I sat in complete astonishment. Edmund had just become a dictator. There was nothing we could do, not one of us. He had complete power over everything.

"Well," Tumnus breathed, "that went worse than expected, if you know what I mean."

I nodded, "what do we do now?"

"Wait. Aslan will intervene soon enough." He stood to his feet, offering his hand out to me. "Join me for supper?"

I forced a smile, taking his hand and standing to my feet. "Sure."

We walked to dinner in silence, too much on both of our minds to orally articulate. Upon arriving in the dinner hall, I took a seat in Susan's usual seat, Tumnus beside me. As we waited for our food, we both continued to mull in our thoughts.

"Tumnus." I whispered, as a thought suddenly come to me.

"Yes?"

"Is...is this war my fault?"

"What? No. No, of course not, my sire." He assured me gently.

"If Edmund had never come to the camp, he never would have met me, this entire war never would have happened. You know it's true, Mr. Tumnus."

"This war is not your fault. I have told you that before. The choices are king is making are immature and selfish. Those are flaws on his part, not yours." He patted my shoulder, smiling in a somewhat reassuring way, "You are not a fault, my friend. You never were."

"Thanks," I sucked my lip between my teeth and sucked on it, "I just keep thinking, what if I had never come? Would Narnia be better off? I can't help it. I'm stuck on the 'what if's."

"I know, but try not to bother yourself too much with them, alright?"

I nodded - our meal continued in silence.

After our meal, I slowly walked to my chambers, turning a corner to find Princess Alera yelling out a rather bored looking Edmund. He stood with his feet planted apart, his arm resting against the door frame and his face angled towards hers. He was handsome, even in his anger, I mused. The beautiful princess, perfection and all, stood with her hands planted on her hips, gesturing widely at the much taller king before her.

"Removing Susan's crown! Abolishing the Table! You are a dictator, Edmund! I will not have that as my husband!" I could hear her saying, "I will not marry a...a...a tyrant! The very word sickens me!"

He sighed, pinching his nose with his fingers. "It was a necessary thing to do."

"It was not necessary! You were just being stupid! A fool!"

He stood fully to his feet, narrowing his eyes and bending so their faces nearly touched, "Listen, Princess Alera. Do not forget who you are talking to, or your place. You are a princess, hardly in a position of power to be calling a king a fool. Do you understand me? You are not my wife and you do not control me. Do not talk to me as someone less than you. I am not less than you."

She hissed through her teeth, glaring up at him through darkened eyelashes. "Well then, King Edmund," her voice was full of venom, "consider the wedding off. I will not marry a tyrant."

He laughed, a sort of wicked, twisted laugh, "Good, pack your stuff and leave."

"I cared for you, Edmund. You were supposed to be the one." She wiped away bitter tears from her eyes, sniffing shortly, "but I can't just sit here and watch this country die, watch...watch you die."

His gaze was smoldering, but he said nothing.

"They will come for you, Edmund. Whether it is Chec, or the rebels, or your own people. No one likes a tyrant. They will kill you, and I can't watch that. I'm sorry," she backed up, into the doorway, slowly closing the door in Edmund's face, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The door clicked shut.

Edmund sighed heavily, leaning his head against the wooden door. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted me. He lifted his head to look at me and the sneered, "Are you happy?"

I stayed silent.

"You ruined everything for me!"

Still, I stayed silent.

"Are you bloody deaf?" He stormed towards me, grabbing my shoulders, "I am talking to you! Damn it, Peter! I rescued you; I saved your bloody life! How have you repaid me!"

"I never asked for you to save me." I whispered, ducking my head to avoid his eyes, "I never asked for any of this. I am just a slave, caught up in this whole mess of things."

"Goddamn, Peter. Ungrateful much?"

"I'm just a slave." I repeated stupidly.

He looked at me with a mix of confusion and hatred, a look I never wanted to see in anyone's eyes, especially his. "I wanted you. I would have given anything for you to be mine."

"I know."

"Why won't you?"

"You are a tyrant, Edmund." I mimicked Alera's early saying. "I will not be with a tyrant."

HIs jaw set, the vein in his neck pulsating, "I tore this country apart," his voice rose to a shout, "for you!"

I ripped his hands away from my shoulders, glaring at him with a mix of sudden anger. "No! You tore apart this country for yourself! Why can't you see that you're destroying Narnia? You have pushed away your sister, you have lost your fiancée, and you're in a war that you will not win! You, just you, have destroyed everything. This isn't my fault, Edmund. This is on you."

"Don't forge-"

"Don't forget my place, I know. You can behead me all you want, Edmund. If you didn't want to hear what I had to say, you never should have dragged me into this mess. You should have left me alone." I walked past him, towards my chambers, but turned at the end of the hallway to face him, "I wish you had never come to save me. I wish you had just left me alone."

When I finally reached my chambers, I collapsed into the mattress, feeling drained and powerless. I felt terrible for what I had said to Edmund. I didn't mean to hurt him. I especially didn't wish that he had left me alone. While this mess was bothersome, Edmund was worth the trouble. Well, so far. Lately, he had become this fearsome figure in my life. Something, I wanted little to do with.

I closed my eyes, praying to this Lion everyone believed in. Aslan, I think. I prayed that he would save us, but I doubted he would.

When I first woke up, I thought I was dreaming. There was screaming and a smell unlike any other smell. Sitting up in bed, I realized my bedroom door was open. People were rushing throughout the hallways, crying and yelling. It was a nightmare, I told myself, expecting to wake back up. It wasn't until Susan rushed into the room, her hair falling away from its loose bun, that I realized it wasn't.

"Narnia is being attacked!"

I grabbed my sword beside my bed and sprinted after her. We ran to her chambers, into the balcony at the other side of the room.

"Oh my god." I gasped.

Flames lit up the sky, angry and vicious, consuming everything in its way. I stood, beside Susan, as we stared in horror at the city below us. People, dryads, fawns, all the citizens below, who had just been in the throne room less than twenty-four hours ago, ran throughout the town. Desperate lovers kissed passionately one last time before a sword ran them through. Susan cursed repeatedly under her breath, screaming out as a young child was set to fire. Her fingers clutched the railing of the stone balcony, her mouth agape, eyes welling with tears. She turned to me; her dark ebony hair flowing through the wind and curling around her shoulder, hot tears broke from the surface of her eyes and rolled down her cheek.

"Why is no one doing anything?" She cried brokenly, "Our men should be down there. Why are none of our men down there? Why hasn't Edm-"

She stopped mid-sentence, looked at me, and then twisted towards the door, "Come, Peter, we must find Edmund."

Inside the hallway, hundreds of maids scurried about, gathering their skirts in their slender hands while they shouted to one another in panic. Ambassadors, advisors, all of them gathered in the throne room, standing in a circle and discussing the event that took place just below us. Susan broke through the crowd, her hair straying wildly in front of her face. "Where is Edmund?"

They gestured to their left, where a lone figure stood against the far glass wall, peering out over the burning city. His hands were folded behind his back, his head bowed, his feet shoulder width apart. Susan approached him, grabbing his arm and yanking him back to face her. "Edmund! What is wrong with you? Our city turns to ash beneath us, yet you turn a blind eye!"

He turned his head slowly to look at her, "Let it burn."

She huffed, slapping him across the face so incredibly hard that I could almost feel the sting. He barely even flinched, causing Susan's anger to grow. Her face turned red, "Send our men down there, Edmund! Send them now!"

"No."

"Have you lost your mind?" She growled. "You are insane, Edmund! Narnia is being destroyed!"

He turned on her, grabbing her wrist and glaring into her brown eyes, "You would be best off to call me by my title-High King Edmund. Otherwise, I will have you thrown in jail and beheaded. Remember your place, sister."

She cried, glancing at my fear-stricken face, "Who are you? You are not the Edmund I remember. Please come back. Save Narnia. Save the country you live for! Please Edmund! You are king! This is your responsibility!"

He ignored her desperate pleas, releasing her hand and turning back to the glass window. "Sister, you have forgotten that we are in war. Attacking now would be pointless."

"How!" She screamed, causing the ambassadors' heads to turn, "You would be saving lives!"

He remained silent.

"Goddamn, Edmund, you selfish pig! You think only have your own pain, not the pain of others. You do not deserve to be king over Narnia. God, you are as rotten as you were when we first arrived here! Back when they were still alive," his eyes flickered to her, "Yes, your brother and sister. Remember them? You betrayed them! Just like you are betraying Narnia now! You haven't changed at all!"

He turned to face her, his eyes unreadable. Susan continued to scream, broken sobs emerging from her throat as she gestured wildly with her hands, "You're still the same boy that murdered his own brother and sister!"

A slap sent her stumbling backwards, tripping over the hem of her dress and falling on her back. She gasped, her hand flying to her cheek where a cut inflicted by Edmund's ring bled weakly. He charged towards her, but I intercepted, grabbing his shoulders and holding him back. He fought against me, tears welling up in his eyes. "You have no idea what I've been through! You don't think I think about their goddamn death every second of the day! You don't have to live with the memories, Susan, I do! I saw John when he died! I saw him fall! It kills me every damn day, Susan! Don't ever tell me I am the same person! I died that day! I died with them!"

The ambassadors now made their way to where we stood. Cautiously, one helped Susan to her feet, pushing her behind him. She sobbed at the sight of her brother, watching as he struggled against my hold. "No, no, no, Edmund. You are not my brother. Only a heartless man could sit and hear the screams of millions of dying souls and watch hundreds of bodies burn alive and not do anything!"

"Take her away from me." His voice was dangerous, his eyes smoldering. I kept my grip tight, watching as the ambassadors attempted to lead Susan away.

She shoved them off, glaring at her brother one last time and with venom dripping from her lips she said, "I wish you had died instead of John."

Edmund's body went tense and the ambassadors led her away, closing the door to the throne room behind them. I released Edmund, praying he wouldn't attack anything nearby. He ignored me, stepped up to his throne and fell into it, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders shook as he cried, yet I found I could not help him. I turned on my heel and walked towards the exit, leaving a broken man in my wake.

I thought I heard him call to me, but it was a merely a whisper of a memory.

While walking through the hallway, I angled my head to look out the window and watched as the smoke curled into the sky, no sign of life below. In the distance, horses paced uneasily as their riders gazed toward the city. Five men, five horses. Chec.

I could end this. I could end whatever war I had just started. I just had to kill Chec.

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**REVIEW! :) NEW CHAPTER COMING TOMORROW IF I GET ENOUGH REVIEWS :)**


	12. I Was Running in Circles

**A/N: Update as promised :) keep reviewing! **

**Oh and I wanted to say to you guys that you mean a ton to me. You, readers and reviewers, are the whole reason I picked up this story again. I didn't want to disappoint you. I love all of you! :)**

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_I've gone away,  
Seen better times in yesterday (I hurt myself).  
It's hard to say,  
that everything will be okay _

_-Hollywood Undead_

Tumnus!" I knocked on the door, repeatedly, hoping he would awaken from whatever dead sleep he was in and open the door. "Mr. Tumnus!"

Hoof beats. He was awake, thank God. I braced myself for slight anger, considering I had just awoken him at this ungodly hour. Was after midnight considered ungodly? I sure hoped not, I really didn't want him mad at me, especially since I wanted his help.

The doorknob twisted, opening to reveal a very disgruntled, hardly-awake fawn. He looked up at me with dazed eyes, a confused and bored expression upon his face. "Peter? What on earth are you doing here?"

"I need your help."

His eyebrow cocked.

"I'm going back, I'm ending this war._ Tonight._" I rummaged through the messenger bag slung around my shoulder, pulling out two gold coins. I flipped them over in my palm before handing them to the confused fawn, "It's all I have. I'll get more later, I promise."

"You're paying me to help you?" He looked down at his hair-covered hand, twisting the gold through his fingers, "actually paying me?"

"I need your help. Please."

He sighed, "How do you expect to end this war?"

"I'm going to kill Chec in his sleep."

He yanked me into his room, hushing me all the while. He turned to bolt the door shut behind him, facing me with an anxious look, "hush now, my friend. You could be sent to the prison for plotting such a murder."

"I have to do it, Mr. Tumnus. I have failed Edmund enough, I need to end this. Once and for all."

He pinched the bridge of his noise, his curls falling in front of his face. "How do you think this will end the war? It will more than likely do more damage than good. Think about it."

"I have." I pleaded with him, "Look, if Chec is dead, the problem will be solved. The clan won't fight without their leader."

He sighed, "As bad of a decision I think this is, I will help you. What do you need me to do?"

I racked my brain for the list I had made. "I need a dagger that carries no emblem, that way Narnia can not be put at fault for the murder, a horse and supplies. Maybe some armor?"

He nodded, motioning for me to follow him. He opened his door, beckoning me out and locking it behind us. He grabbed a torch from the wall, one of the many provided, and led me down the hallway. We moved down three flights of stairs into the hallway that held the guest chambers, excluding my own. The hallway was dark, obviously due to the fact that everyone was currently resting. Probably what I should be doing, I thought quietly to myself. Tumnus held the torch to an unlit torch, setting it aflame, and opened a door to our left. After lighting all the torches within the room, he headed towards a bookcase, or shelf, I wasn't sure which one, and picked up a helmet. He looked at me, then at the helmet in his hands, then back to me.

"This is Edmund's armory, and this helmet," he cleared his throat, "was the helmet he received from Aslan. It is for the sole purpose of destroying evil. It will do you well." He handed it to me and turned to open a chest that lied on a table nearby, all the while mumbling under his breath, I think to me, about Edmund. "Edmund keeps most of his treasures in here. He sort of has this...this problem with throwing away things. I think he has over thirty or so daggers in here, none of which he uses. Keeps them for memory sake, at least that's what he says. Ah, here is one. Yes, no emblem."

He turned and handed me a silver dagger. The blade was double edged, with a handle of gold. Engraved in the gold were the words "bellum est eternities". I nodded at him, "Thank you. I think this is all I need."

"No, there is one more thing. Well, besides the horse." He gestured me to come closer, "Edmund keeps a bottle of Naga venom in his room. It can kill someone in just seconds. Take it, dip the dagger in it and kill Chec."

"Sounds good. Do you have it?"

"No, like I said it is in Edmund's room."

"Okay, let's go get it."

"Well, they might let you in. The guards, that is, but probably not me. They know of Edmund's infatuation with you."

"Your Edmund's most trusted advisor."

"I don't think you understand just how 'off-limits' the High King's chamber is. No one, not even is his own sister has entered that room. Only Aslan and Edmund himself. You will be lucky to get in."

I breathed, "well we might as well try, right?"

He nodded towards the door, a worried smile on his face. "After you, my liege."

Three minutes later, we were standing in front of two men, both of which guarded the entrance to Edmund's room. The men, as expected, were being difficult and were not allowing either of us in the room.

"Your Majesty is sleeping, sir. Whatever issue you have can be discussed in the morning. Now, please return to your chambers."

Tumnus gestured widely to me, "this is Peter, Edmund's lover. He wants to surprise Edmund, okay? You can understand that, right?"

"No, sir."

"Are you serious?"

"No visitors."

I sighed, "Look, I am leaving tonight and I would like to say goodbye to him. I don't know when I am coming back or if I ever am for that matter. Please just let me see him one last time. Please, I am begging you."

"I'm sorry, sir."

Mr. Tumnus turned to me with a frustrated look on his face, "Told you they are impossible to bypass," he turned back to the guards, "where is Orieus? He would understand."

"Our captain is resting as well, sir."

"I will make you a deal. Let Peter in and if Orieus disapproves in the morning, you can have me thrown into jail, alright?"

The guards looked at one another, and then nodded. "Alright, but give us all weapons on your person."

I quickly handed him over the dagger, as well as the sword I carried with me. "Thank you so much!"

They just grunted, while Tumnus beamed in the background. The taller guard turned and unlocked the door, pushing it open just enough to allow me to slide in.

Edmund's room was large, three times the size of my guest chambers, easily. The walls were a gray stone, white in the moonlight that shone through the open doors of the balcony. A desk was pressed against the far left wall, papers flung across its surface and books strewn open. A fireplace was unlit to my right, an elaborate golden design framing it. Various chests and swords lied around the room, all messy and unorganized. A door led to a master bathroom, a large bathtub placed in the center of the bathroom. In the center wall, the one I was facing at the moment, was a large bed. Huge, actually. Curtains hung from golden poles, the sheets were silk, laced with blue and silver thread. On the left side of the bed, a human body slept under the covers. Edmund. His black hair was tossed across his face, his soft form inhaling and exhaling, causing the sheets to slip lower and lower over his bare chest.

And on the table on the left wall, in a tiny glass bottle, was the poison. Or at least, I assumed it was.

Despite that, I found myself approaching the bed. At his bedside, I knelt, placing my hand beside his shape. I scanned his peaceful face, wondering what he was dreaming of. I touched his cheek, barely, just a whisper of a touch, and breathed, "Goodbye, Edmund."

Just as my fingertips brushed the soft skin of his cheek, his hand had enclosed around my wrist. Sitting up, wrist still in his hand, he glared down at me. I remained silent, not fighting his grip or anything he was doing. He immediately released my hand, looking at me with a mix of confusion, surprise, and anger. "What are you doing? How did you get in here? Why are you here? Did the guards let you in?"

I bowed my head, hiding my face from his. "I just wanted to see you."

He looked at me in confusion, "why?"

"I missed you."

A laugh erupted from his throat, "You? Miss me?"

"Edmund, please don't be like that."

"Why are you here? And how did you get in here?" He swung his legs over the side of his bed, standing to his feet. "They aren't supposed to let anyone in here."

"I told them to let me in, because I wanted to see you. I needed to see you." I sighed; I knew what I needed to do. I had to break my promise to Susan. I had to say what I wanted to say all along. "Look, I never meant to hurt you, and I didn't mean those things I said, Edmund. I just, well I promised Susan I would stay away from you."

"What?" He approached me, his eyes narrowing, "She made you promise_what_?"

"She told me I wasn't good for you," I sat on his bed, staring at my feet. "I can't give you the life you need. You have to marry someone that can give you heirs; I would kill the family name. Anyway, she told me that if I cared about you, I would stay away from you. So that is exactly what I did."

"This entire thing is..." He spit the word out, "_Susan_'s fault."

"I'm sorry."

"All this time..", his eyes were troubled and he looked up at me, regret, remorse, every emotion that I had been dying to see since I had gotten here shone through in his beautiful eyes, "I've made such a mess of things. And I knew I was too, I just couldn't stop. I didn't know how to stop."

I watched him wearily, unsure of what he would do next. Edmund pressed his hand to his forehead, sighing deeply, "Oh, Peter. What have I done?"

"Nothing you can't fix." I reassured him, offering him a half smile in the moonlight. He was beautiful, the moon reflected off of him just perfectly. "Edmund...I've missed you so much."

Cheesy. Way to go, Pete.

He snapped out of his mood approaching me and sitting beside me on the bed, the mattress sinking to accept his weight. "You didn't mean it then? That you didn't love me?"

"No." I whispered. "I never stopped wanting you."

"Do you still want me?" He questioned, brushing his hair away from his eyes and setting his smoldering gaze on me, "even after all the things I've done?"

I hesitated, but eventually nodded.

"You don't." He frowned.

"Yes, I do, Edmund!" I sighed, taking his hand in mine, brushing my thumb over his fingers, "It's just you've been so different lately. I'm afraid that nothing has changed."

"I know I've messed things up lately, Peter. I know have. It scares me, it scares me so much. I was completely out of control, I feel like I still am. I know what I've been doing is wrong, I just don't know how to stop...or if I even can stop." He choked on the last word, ducking is head and bringing a hand to his face. "I have no idea how to stop, I don't even know if I want to. This power...it feels so good, Peter. I'm power hungry."

What he said scared me. He had changed, he wasn't my Edmund anymore. I closed my second hand over his, looking deeply into his eyes (out of the corner of my eye, the bottle of poison liquid beamed at me threateningly). I lied, "I don't care anymore."

He raised an eyebrow.

I was running out of time, I didn't want to lie. Aslan knows I didn't, but I had to get the poison and leave for daybreak.

"You mean that?" He whispered as his fingers wrapped around my wrist, a hesitant smile on his face, "you still want me? God, you'd be the only one right now."

"Of course I mean it." I lied again, a sickening feeling developing in my stomach. However, what I said next was something I actually meant, something I wanted-needed even, "Kiss me."

He smiled the smile I had missed so much. He leaned forward, causing the breath to leave my lungs and pressed his pale lips against mine. My hand was immediately on the base of his neck, pulling him closer, begging him to come closer. He pressed his hands against my chest, feeling the muscles that lined my chest. I was hot, too hot. There were far too many clothes, clothes that didn't really need to be on anymore. I tugged at the hem of Edmund's shirt until he sat up, yanking his shirt over his head. I admired his body, his toned muscular abdomen and his broad shoulders. He smiled at my gaze and kissed me once more.

When he removed my shirt, I froze. I was well aware of the fact that he had seen me shirtless before and that I had spent a good portion of my life shirtless, but I had never been shirtless in a situation such as this. He noticed my shyness and ran a hand down my abdomen, tracing his fingers over the muscles. He bent back over me, kissing me hungrily as his hands continued to trail over my entire body. I weaved my fingers into his hair, yanking him closer, his groin rubbing against mine. His breath caught in his throat as he trembled at the touch.

"I want you."

At first, I wasn't sure who had spoken. It was my thoughts, but not my voice.

It had been him. _He_ wanted _me_.

I didn't mean to sound like a blushing virgin, but nevertheless, I sat up, his legs still straddling my lap. "What do you mean?"

He rolled his eyes, his lopsided smile coming into play (God, I had missed him), "I'm not drawing you a picture, Peter. You know what I mean."

"Just in case I don't..."

"I want to have sex." He sighed jokingly, "Do you know what that is?"

"Yes, I know what it means. I'm not some virgin, ya know?"

"You aren't?"

"Okay, I am, but still. I'm not stupid."

"Never said you were. You just seemed confused, so I thought maybe they had a different name for it where you're from."

"I live in the same country as you, Edmund."

"Oh yeah," He smiled, pressing his lips against me once more. "So what do you say?"

Instead of speaking, I kissed him passionately, my hands traveling down to his trousers, carefully untying the strings. He smiled into the kiss, pushing me onto my back and allowing me to remove his pants. I was too nervous to look at him, too nervous that he would put me to shame. He didn't notice my anxiety and continued to kiss me, his hands repeating what mine had done earlier and unlacing the ties. I shoved a hand against his chest suddenly, pushing him back.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Have you...you know...done this...?"

"What? Sex?" He gave me a confused look.

"Yeah. With anyone else."

He frowned, "No. Well...yeah, no."

"Well..?" I pressed the topic on.

"Well, I mean, I've done other things. Just not...you know...this." He motioned between our bodies, "Just like touching, you know? Nothing too bad."

I stayed silent.

"You're not gonna be a girl about this, are you?"

I smirked, pulling him closer and shoving his hand back towards my trousers. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Edmund laughed, his fingers carefully untying, his eyes focused on his work, "You know, the whole 'I can't believe I'm not your first' ordeal."

His hand brushed over my member and I groaned, vaguely aware that he was still mumbling about something. I pulled him down to kiss me, my fingers tangled in his hair, "Shut up and focus."

"I want you on top."

"What?" I stuttered, completely forgetting about the fact that his hand was still wrapped around my throbbing member, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah." He rolled off my lap, landing by my side and smiling at me. "I want you."

The King of Narnia wanted me to make love to him.

He wanted_ me_ to dominate _over him._

His lips were against mine, begging me to hurry up with the process. I rolled over to hover over him, kissing his neck, his face, whatever skin was exposed to me. Edmund's hand touched mine, pulling it to his mouth where he proceeded to suck on my index finger. I watched him intently, aroused by his actions, and wanting nothing more than to be inside of him already. He released my hand and motioned for me to prepare him. I nodded, kissing him as my finger pressed against his opening. He inhaled nervously, whispering, "Just do it."

I pressed one finger in. He looked fine.

Two fingers now. His eyes started to fill with pain, but he nodded.

I twirled my fingers around, stretching him, preparing him for me. My eyes were glued to his face, careful not to upset the king. My sweaty hair fell in front of my eyes as I removed my fingers, kissing him again, and aligning my hips to his.

"This will hurt." I whispered, searching his eyes for some sort of doubt or regret. There was none.

"I know." His voice was merely a whisper, "I trust you."

I pressed just the head of my member in, stretching him. His eyes widened with pain and he tensed, his hands wrapping around my biceps and squeezing. I had just taken the King of Narnia's virginity – the thought unreal to me.

He grunted in pain, shifting uncomfortably as I entered completely. It felt good, so good, to be inside him. For once in my entire life, I felt whole. I felt complete. He moaned, placing his hand on the center of my chest, a silent request for me to stop. I dropped down to rest on my elbows, my chest pressed against his, my cheek on his sweaty one. He let out a few curse words before shifting again, only to grunt in pain once more.

I leaned back so I could see into his face and with one hand I brushed his bangs away from his face. He looked up at me, forcing an uneasy smile on his face and apologizing for his loudness. I smiled, gently, "Relax, Edmund. It'll feel better in a minute."

"How do you know?" His eyes, while filled with pain, were trusting. "Have you done this before?"

I shook my head, "No, but disturbingly enough, the people in the cot above me used to have sex when I was trying to fall asleep. They were both guys and the one on the bottom was always in pain for the first few minutes. He started to like it after that, or at least I think he did. He was groaning after all."

Edmund smiled an easier, more relaxed smile this time. I kissed him softly, "Now just tell me when you're ready, okay?"

He nodded, reaching up to kiss me once more. We stayed in that position for some time, just kissing and touching each other without moving. I didn't about him, but for me, it was like a slow torment – being inside him yet not allowed to move. He must have noticed my pain because he nodded at me, his eyes full of trust. I pulled out slightly before pushing back inside him. He groaned, but there was little pain left in his voice. I continued my efforts, all the while keeping my eyes on his face, watching his expressions, praying I wasn't hurting him.

Edmund was so beautiful. I couldn't help but think that as I moved within him. His pale face contrasted with his sweaty ebony hair that now clung to his forehead. His dark eyes watched me, occasionally closing as he let out a sigh of pleasure. No imperfections. He was perfect.

I bent my head down to rest my forehead against his, my golden blonde hair clashing against his black hair, my eyes now fully focused on his mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand reach between our bodies, the top of his hand brushing my abdomen, and wrap his hand around his member. He made slow, jerking movements to match my speed, his head falling back against the pillow, his back arching to bump against my chest. He moaned with pleasure, no hint of pain left. I moved quicker, pulling out and thrusting back in, his hand matching my beat.

I never thought something like this would happen; that I would be making love to Edmund, the King of Narnia. It just seemed so unreal. Before I had met 'James', the king beneath me had been nothing but a fairytale, a legend, some hero that only existed in the imagination. I was a slave, nothing even close to his stature. The odds that he would pick to be with me, or that he would fall in love with me, were slim to nothing. I know I am being repetitive, but it was incredibly surreal to know that the man that lied beneath me was Edmund. I was lucky, incredibly lucky.

"Peter." His hazy eyes looked to mine, "I'm close."

I nodded, mouthing 'me too' to him before picking up speed. The sound of flesh smacking against flesh could be heard throughout the room. Hot tremors rolled through my body, a strong pleasurable feeling developing in my lower abdomen. I knew I was close, I could feel it. I leaned down, using my left hand to push away Edmund's hand from his member and replace it with my own. I gave a few hard jerks watching as his back arched, his eyes rolled back and he released a large moan. With a choking sound in the back of his throat, all the muscles in his body tensed, he came, and white liquid shooting onto my stomach as his body went limp. I wiped my hand on the sheet next to me, forgetting it was silk, and continued to thrust into him. I moaned breathlessly, losing sense of my surroundings. I felt his hand on my chest and his lips on my throat and that was enough to send me over the edge. I came inside him, moaning the entire time while he continued to kiss my neck. I finished, falling to the side of him, exhausted.

"I love you, Edmund." I whispered without thinking. I froze, I had never said it to him before, in fact, and we had never said it to each other before. I had told him, all those days ago, that I didn't love him, implying that maybe at one point I had, but I had never confirmed that I loved him. Would he reject me? Of course he would. He was king. Who was I to think that the King of Narnia would ever love me?

"I love you too, Pete."

His answer was quiet, tired, and his voice heavy. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"And whatever you're thinking about, stop."

I froze, "huh?"

"You're doing your 'I don't deserve this' face, stop thinking. Just enjoy the moment."

"I'm not making any face."

"Don't lie to me, that's a federal crime."

"No, it's not."

"Look it up."

I smiled to myself, rolling on my side to face him. "Goodnight, Edmund."

"I win." He whispered, before shifting to lie facing away from me. He readjusted his pillow before turning his head to the side so I could hear him better, "oh and if you are going to sleep in here, don't hog the blankets."

I laughed quietly, lying on my back and studying the ceiling. The entire ceiling was a painting of the midnight sky and rolling, green hills. A castle stood in the far right corner of the painting, looking out over the distant hills. A beach was painted along the line of the green hills, and in the center of the beach, beside the crashing waves, was a lion. Aslan, I presumed.

I don't know how long I stayed staring at the painting, but Edmund's breathing had deepened beside me. I swallowed thickly; I didn't want to leave him. What had just happened between us was amazing; I knew I never wanted to forget it. Above all, I knew I loved him. I would do anything to protect him.

I pushed myself to a sitting position and leaned down to kiss Edmund on his cheek. He smiled in his sleep, causing my heart to break at the thought that I might never see that smile again. Nevertheless, I stood to my feet, walked towards the desk and grabbed the glass bottle.

Staring at the red liquid, I told myself this would be worth it.

I shoved the bottle into the folds of my clothing and quietly exited the room. Closing the door behind me, I turned to face the guards, who in return, gave me a teasing look. One even remarked, "Good way to end the night. Now I see why you were so desperate to get in there."

I would have laughed had I not felt like dying.

"Where is Tumnus?"

One gestured towards the hallway, "A ways down there, waiting for you, I believe."

I continued down the hallway after thanking the guards, my hand stuffed into my pocket, fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle. I almost passed the fawn who was sitting on a stone bench to my left.

"What took you so long?" He said, somewhat grumpily.

"I got caught up", I whispered, stumbling over my words, "We going to the stables?"

He narrowed his eyes at me, obviously suspicious of what was going on, but otherwise nodded and stood to his feet, er, hooves. I followed him, out the castle door into the crisp night air, and down the elaborate stone steps. I could never quite get over just how huge this castle was. He led me to the stables where he saddled a black horse (named Gerald apparently), and handed me the reins.

"Look, promise me you'll stay safe."

I looked at him, studying his sad eyes. He knew any promise I made might end up broken in the end. I wanted to nod, but I couldn't. I had done enough lying lately. I was sick of it. "Look after Edmund."

He agreed, "He's going to be angry with you, sire. You know that, correct?"

"I know. Just don't tell him where I am, okay? I don't want him to worry."

"Goodbye, Peter."

I nodded, pressing my horse forward into the night. I had to do this.

I would do this for Edmund.

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**Next Chapter coming soon! :) **


	13. Riot

**A/N: Almost to the end Hope you guys are enjoying this! I know I am enjoying writing it love you all! Review at the end!**

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_You're not the only one_  
_Refusing to back down_  
_You're not the only one_  
_So get up_  
_Let's start a riot, a riot_

_Three Days Grace_

The night sky was clear, the moonlight streamed through the branches of the looming trees. No sound could be heard, the woods silent, besides the rhythmic beat of the horse's hooves pounding against the dirt ground and the snap of an occasional twig as his hooves dug into it. His labored breathing was loud in my ears as he let out a sound that can only be described as something between a snort and a huff. He slowed to a trot, his gate slowing and moving uneasily beneath me. I kicked my heels into his side, pressing him along the broken road. His nostrils flared and he let out an angry squeal, backing up and rearing onto his hind legs. He stopped dead in his track, prancing nervously in his place, fidgeting.

He snorted, dropping his muzzle to the ground and flaring his nostrils once more, "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I can't keep going. I'm too tired."

I ignored the mistaken title, instead placing the reigns on the horn of the saddle and sliding to the ground. I walked to the front of the horse, pressing my palm against his damp forehead. I had been pressing him pretty hard, I could tell by the white foam that formed along his shoulders and hindquarters. I patted him softly on the cheek, taking his reins. "I'm sorry, Gerald. I wasn't thinking. We'll walk from here on, okay?"

He nodded, at least I thought it was a nod, and raised his head to look me in the eyes. "I can run again, I just need to do some walking first."

I smiled, brushing my fingers through his hair. I adjusted my boots before pulling on his reins to follow me down the path. His breathing was calm now and I found the silence unnerving. The dark night was vanishing into the rising sun. I was guessing we had a little over an hour before daylight was here. I tried to figure just how dangerous it would be to continue walking through the day. I mean, who knows how many of Chec's men would be out here? The noise of the crickets started to die off and the cheerful whistling of the birds could be heard throughout the woods.

"Not much farther now," I whispered, careful not to make much noise.

His ears perked towards my voice, then relaxed, one turned towards me, the other turned towards the wood, listening for intruders. I smiled at his valiant efforts of protecting me. What a valiant horse.

"Your Majesty, if I-"

"Peter." I corrected, not tearing my eyes away from the path in front of me.

His eyes laid flat against his head, frustrated, "What?"

"My name is Peter." I smiled back at him reassuringly, "I'm no king."

He snorted, picking up a trot as he playfully passed me, swishing his tail in my face. I swatted his hindquarter, causing him to squeal and canter a few feet away from me where he reared and slammed his hooves into the ground. He shook his mane, flared out his nostrils, and glared at me through long black eyelashes.

"Hey, that's what you get for hitting me in the face with that tail of yours." I smirked good-naturedly. I liked this horse. A lot.

"I was just going to say that you're too serious." He whinnied, tossing his mane again, maybe to show off or something. "It was an attempt to get you to smile."

"Well, it worked." I smiled, now walking beside him. I patted his muzzle affectionately, wondering why it was that I found it easier to get along with animals than other humans.

"Good." He pushed against my shoulder with his forehead, almost knocking me over, "but the hit was unnecessary."

"I didn't hit you that hard." I laughed, "Don't be such a baby."

He snorted again, and we walked on. It was day now, instead of the moon the sun streamed through the trees and birds flew overhead. I glanced at Gerald, who also walked in silence. His eyes met mine and he nuzzled me again, something equivalent to a smile twisting on his muzzle. It was an awkward looking smile though, if it could even be called that. Soon enough, the dirt and grassy ground gave away to rocks and granite. Suddenly, Gerald stopped, digging his hooves into the ground. His ear twitched, and then folded back towards his head.

"What is it?" I mouthed.

He raised his head, sniffing the air, before pawing the ground, "Gryphon. Narnian."

"Damn it!" I ducked my head, "are you serious?"

"Yes, sire." He nuzzled me, his ears angled towards mine, confused. "If I'm not mistaken, that's a good thing."

"No, it's not. How close is he?"

He raised his head back to the sky, snorting, ears twitching wildly. "Not far. He's approaching us."

"Come on!" I grabbed his reins, pulling him, more like dragging him, up the path. In the far distance I noticed a small cave, barely big enough to fit a horse, but it would serve its purpose. "Gerald, see that cave?"

"Yes." He glanced at it and then back to me, "Pardon me, but what's with the rush? I wanted a chance to greet him."

I ignored him momentarily, trying to walk silently, yet briskly towards the cave, "umm...long story short, Edmund can't know where I am."

"Why?"

"I'll explain when we're alone, okay?"

From the sky came a fierce screech followed by the sound of powerful wings flapping in the wind. He screeched again and this time it was much closer. I turned to Gerald, grabbing his reins and taking off sprinting, "Run!"

He cantered along beside me, then quickened to a gallop. I grabbed the saddle horn, kicking off the ground and swinging my leg around his back. I pushed him to a full-out gallop, his mane flying into my face. We saw, no more like heard, a screech approaching from behind us. A shadow fell over us, covering us completely. I turned my eyes toward the sky and watched as the gryphon flew directly over us. His beak was angled towards me as he let out another screech, swooping in lower. He obviously wanted to land and talk about this. I contemplated slowing Gerald down, maybe I could convince the gryphon not to tattle on me.

Just as I started to rein Gerald in, the gryphon's claws extended, reaching for me.

I barely had time to react before his claws were on my back, digging into the muscles, ripping my skin. Gerald screamed, stopping dead in his tracks. The gryphon, which had been going the same speed as us, lost its grip and flew past us. He circled in the sky, coming back toward us.

"What the hell," I breathed, in shock. Was a Narnian gryphon attacking us? Why?

The gryphon swooped in low, aiming directly at Gerald's chest. He spread his wings, pulling his body up so that his claws now came at us, the dangerously long nail taunting us. Gerald reared, just as the gryphon swooped into us, and slammed his giant hooves into the feathered chest of the gryphon. I made an attempt to grab his mane, in an effort to stay on him, screaming his name the entire time. The force of the blunt had not only caused the gryphon to lose flight and go crashing into the ground, but had also knocked Gerald off balance. I landed in the dirt, hard, on my shoulder and rolled a few times.

I laid there, the breath knocked out of me, wondering what had just happened. I heard rustling and lifting my head just enough to see Gerald rising to stand again as, in the background, the gryphon uncurled itself, standing on its massive feet. He planted them apart, bending his head and letting out a powerful scream. Gerald shook his mane, pawing the ground, his ears flat against his head. Gerald charged, lowering his head and bending it back, fully intending on head butting the gryphon.

The gryphon screamed again, flapping his powerful wings and pushing off his hindquarters into the sky, just missing Gerald's hit. Gerald stopped, sliding in the dust and rearing again. The gryphon completely ignored him, folding his wings into his body and diving straight towards me, a terrible, eerie sound coming from his throat.

I heard Gerald scream my name, heard his hooves beat against the ground as he desperately attempted to reach me. Everything slowed down, including me. I felt my hand reach for my sword, though I had never told it to do such a thing, wrapping my fingers around the handle. I closed my eyes and breathed, just once.

Time sped up. I unsheathed the sword, swinging blindly in front of me. I heard a cry, a crash nearby. I opened my eyes (had they been closed this entire time?), and turned to see the gryphon lying on the ground, desperately trying to drag his body away from me. His wounded wing dragged against the dirt useless. I walked shakily towards him, even as he continued to pull his body across the ground. He looked back at me, screaming, before frantically digging his nails into the ground and pulling his heavy body through the dirt. I came to stand beside him, just a few feet away. He would not attack. I knew very little about gryphons, but the one thing I did know is that without their wings, they had little to no balance. Taking a swipe at me with his claw would only knock him off his feet.

Gerald's hoof beats approached me from behind. "He was a free Narnian."

I looked back at him, "a rebel?"

"Yes." He huffed, blowing air through his nostrils, warning the creature in front of him, "They're a clan that believes that Edmund should be removed from the throne."

"Why would he attack me?"

"The Free Narnians have more than likely sided with Chec. We are in their "territory" technically."

I knew what I had to do. If I let this pathetic creature go he would spread the news that we had been here, that we were coming. I lifted my sword, flipping it in my hands so it would face vertically down. The gryphon's eyes widened and he quickened in his attempt to escape me. I stood over his face, just far away to avoid his dangerously sharp beak, and drove my sword into his throat. His final screeched died in his throat and the light vanished from his eyes.

I felt weak.

I dropped my sword, falling to my knees, my hands on the soft feathers of the creature that I had killed. I had never killed anything before. It was strange; it didn't feel like I thought it would. I thought I would feel like a hero, or that I would feel powerful, knowing I could end life. But that's not how I felt. I felt nauseated, guilty, and above all, weak.

Gerald said nothing, just stood behind me.

We sat there until sundown, my eyes still on the gryphon in front of me. I sat with my knees folded into my chest, my arms wrapped around my legs and my chin on my knees. Gerald lay on his stomach, hooves curled under him, somewhere behind me. I could tell he was bored, but was attempting patience. I sniffed, not that I was crying, but because the air was growing steadily colder.

Gerald huffed, "you know it gets easier." He reassured me nervously.

"Really?" I turned back to look at him, watching as he throw his massive head up and down, as if he was nodding.

"Everyone feels like this after their first kill." He stood up, stretching his large mouth out into a decent sized yawn, "Trust me, I've seen it before."

I nodded, resting my chin back on his knees.

"Normally I would give you more time to contemplate all this, but last I heard, you were in a hurry to get somewhere."

I stood up, turning my back on the deceased creature and approaching Gerald, "You're right. Sorry."

He whinnied, dropping his head on my shoulder. "It's alright. Let's just get going."

I patted his long, elegant neck, swinging up onto his back and pressing him forward. He picked up a slow trot, his gate carrying us farther away from the gryphon. The sickening feeling had left, leaving only numbness in its place. In a way I was glad I had been able to kill the gryphon before. It better prepared me for Chec's upcoming murder. In the distance, just between the trees, I saw lights. The light, just as I had guessed was from a campfire in the distance. We were here.

I slowed Gerald to a walk as we picked our way through the rocky field. Gerald knew enough to be quiet, though he was unsure of what exactly we were doing here. As we came closer, the one light turned to many. The largest light, the campfire, lied in the center of the "slaves' courtyard" (a name we had become accustomed to in previous years). Slaves gathered around it, holding their hands over the bright flames in a vain attempt to warm them. We came to the stone wall that separated us from the slaves and I slowly dismounted, dropping to a crouch. I turned to Gerald, holding his reins so he was looking at me, "Wait here, okay?"

"Your Majest-" I gave him a stern look, "Peter, I mean. What are we exactly doing here? I was never briefed on this mission."

I sighed, shaking my bangs away from my eyes, "Promise you won't be upset?"

"No."

"Fair enough." I inhaled deeply, before pushing the air from my lungs and looking deeply into his black eyes, "I'm killing the slave master."

His eyes widened, or at least attempted to widen. "Why?"

"Hoping it might, you know, end this war." I shook my head, holding my hand up in front of me, waving it off. "It's a long shot, but it's worth a try, right?"

"You are insane," was all he said before he gave a quiet snort and nuzzled me towards the wall, "but I got your back."

I smiled, patting his muzzle one last time before sneaking up to the wall. I peeked over it, observing my surroundings and outlets. There were three slaves around the campfire and two guards at the end of the courtyard. The slave houses, however, were unmanned and therefore my safest bet. Suddenly, I reached an idea. My fingers quickly undid the buttons on my shirt as I shrugged it off. I looked down at my dark brown leggings. They looked way too neat and would never pass as slave clothing. I unsheathed the dagger and quickly, but accurately cut holes into my pants. Gerald watched me with mild amusement from his spot a few feet away. He suddenly approached me, turning his back to me and with his hind legs, kicked up dirt onto my outfit. I scowled at him, shaking the dirt from my shirt and hair. "What was that for?"

"I thought it would help add to the effect." He whinnied, low in his throat. "Did it?"

"You're a genius sometimes, Gerald."

He shook his mane in pride and I smiled as he trotted back to his original spot. He blended in quite well with the night sky, almost transparently. I, meanwhile, tiptoed to the stone wall that just overlooked the roof of a slave house, pulling myself on to the stone ledge, which was only a few feet from the ground on my side, but was several feet from the ground on the other. I, then in a lame attempt at being quiet, leaped from the ledge to the roof. I barely caught myself, my hand nearly missing the roof. I managed to hold on, grunting quietly the entire time. I looked down at the ground, which was a good eight or nine feet away. I prayed that, for the sake of this mission, I would not break or sprain anything in my body and having said my prayers, I released my hold and fell to the ground, rather roughly. A sharp pain shot up from my feet, but otherwise I was fine. The pain was only temporary. I snuck around to the door, glancing at the guards who still remained oblivious, and opened the door.

There were eight slaves total in the room, four on the bottom beds, and four on the top. Only six slept peacefully, the rest gazed blankly at the wall. One tore his gaze away, sitting up and glaring at me suspiciously, "Who are you?"

I held up my hands in a sign of innocence. "Peter. I'm looking for Lucy."

"Peter?" He stood up, approaching me. He was my height, moderately attractive, and worn looking. "I don't remember you."

"I was a slave here." I watched him for any signs of anger or hints that he would attack me. "I was the king's lover."

His eyes widened, gasping now at the mere sight of me. "You're alive? We had all been told you were dead!"

"The king bought my freedom." I ignored his sudden amazement and glanced worriedly at the door, "Please, I am looking for my sister."

"Certainly." He rushed to the bedside of his bedmate (all beds were pushed together due to the room being so small) and shook him awake, "Edward! Edward! Wake up!"

Edward, as I assumed his name was, gave a groggily 'fuck off' before rolling over onto his other side. The slave ignored him, continuing to pursue his actions in waking him up. Edward sat up, temperamentally, careful not to knock his head on the bed above him. "What?"

"This man," the slave pointed to me, "is the king's lover. You know, the king that was here several weeks ago? Anyways, he's come for his sister. It seems pretty urgent. Do you know where his sister is?"

"Peter, right?" Edward asked, sliding out from underneath the mess of beds and approaching me alongside the slave. "Yeah, I remember you. What are you doing back here?"

"I came to kill Chec and rescue my sister," I smirked, "and in the process of killing Chec, I hope to free all of you."

Edward looked at me in blatant shock, shaking his head, "Insane, but a noble effort. Do you really think you could pull it off?"

"With a little help, I could." I hinted, watching as their eyes turned to one another. They stared at each other for a moment before looking back at me.

"Alright, we'll help. We got nothing to lose anyway."

"Great. You can start by telling me where my sister is."

Edward nodded towards the door, "I know. Follow me."

We headed out the door, all three of us dressed in torn up clothing, though mine looked a lot more regal than theirs. Edward passed the campfire, nodding at a few of the woman slaves that huddled there. He stopped by one of them, casting a look towards the guards, and then asked if the women had seen Lucy recently. Two of them looked confused, but the youngest of the three piped in, pointing to the house on the far left. Edward gave her a grateful look before passing me a smile. We headed to the house, the guards still not caring what was going on. Why would they? As long as we weren't trying to escape (and to the best of their knowledge, we weren't), we weren't breaking any rules. I opened the door, my breath catching in my throat. I was excited to see Lucy, to hug and hold her again, to tell her everything would be okay, that I had come back for her.

There were nine slaves in this house. I scanned each of them for Lucy. At the bottom of the last bunk-bed was a small form, smaller than the rest. My sister. I rushed to the last one, stumbling in the promise and waking up a few of the sleeping women. Edward and the nameless slave smiled nervously at the women who now glared at them. I dropped to my knees, my arms encircling the small body and pulling it into my chest. I kissed her golden brown hair, inhaling the sweet scent that I had missed so much.

She awoke with a start, shoving her small hands into my form and peering up at me with green eyes. Her eyes took in my face and her mouth dropped in shock. Tears sprung into her eyes and with a loud exclaim of "Peter!", she threw her arms around my neck. She cried into my neck, her tiny body shaking against mine. I held her there, kissing her hair and stroking her back, all the while telling her it was okay.

She pulled back again, her fingers tracing my lips, tears spilling from her eyes, "You're here."

I smiled gently, noticing an unfamiliar wetness coming from my eyes. I was crying. "I told you I would come back for you. No matter what."

She cried again, choking on her tears, and hiding her face in my chest. "We were told you were dead. Oh Peter, I was so heartbroken. I thought I would never see my brother again."

"I'm here, Lu. I'm taking you away from here, okay?" I pushed the bangs away from her face, kissing her forehead. "You never have to hurt again. I'm here now."

"You look so different." She whispered.

I ignored what she said and stood to my feet, lifting her body with mine and holding it against mine. I carried her to the door before setting her down and kneeling to her level. She stared at me with wide eyes of confusion. I again brushed back a lock of her bangs, bringing her small hand to my lips and kissing it. "I have to go finish something, Lu, but I'll be right back, okay? Pack your things and be ready to leave as soon as I return."

She nodded, scared but understanding. I turned to Edward, his wise face scanning mine. "I need a diversion. For the guards."

He looked towards the slave at his side and then back at me, nodding. "We can do that."

I smiled at Lucy, squeezing her hand and motioning for her to go pack. The three of us, Edward, I, and the slave, exited the house, heading for the guards. I turned my head to look at Edward and the slave, whispering quietly to them, "If I don't make it, there is a horse just over that wall. Please make sure my sister is taken to him. Tell the horse to return to Narnia, with or without me. You are free to go with him."

"Will do." The slave on my right side responded. "Ready for this?"

I had no idea what they had in mind; that was until Edward took off at a full sprint, straight towards the guard and tackled him to the ground. Straddling his waist, Edward continued to beat into the man with his fists, knocking his head from side to side. I watched from a distance, astonished at his bravery, as the other guard moved to help his comrade. That was when the slave beside me rushed forward, proceeding to knock over the other guard.

Brave men. True comrades.

Edward glanced up momentarily from the chaos, since the women around the campfire had gone running inside the houses, shrieking in fear at the scene that lay outside. Several of the male slaves had rushed outside to see the commotion and were now running towards the scene in hopes of getting their hands on the unfortunate guards that had been unable to call for help in time. The commotion, however, had become loud enough (due to the cheering slaves and the groaning guards) that guards from other stations had started to rush into the courtyard.

Edward stood up, having knocked out the guard, and faced the slaves. He screamed at the top of his lungs, pointing to the gathering guards, "Slaves! The time has come to rebel!"

I had not planned on this large of a diversion, but it happened just as well. The guards rushed forward, drawing their swords, as the slaves also continued to rush forward, their fists drawing back. Every slave was now either fighting the guards or huddled in fear behind the houses. There was a rebellion and I had been the one to bring it.

The only downside to this plan was that the element of surprise had been destroyed. There would be a battle now, between Chec and I, and it would be to the death.

I only prayed that I would win.

* * *

**Review pleaseeee Sorry if this chapter sucks by the way. I'm not real good at action scenes haha. But please review **


	14. Headstrong

Back off, I'll take you on.  
Headstrong, I'll take on anyone

-Trapt

A/N: Sorry it has been soooooooooooooo freaking long. I've just been so busy! I'll try and update faster :) Enjoy and REVIEW :)

Using the night as a blanket to shield my attack, I crept along the stone wall, faded from the weather, my hand tracing along the rough edges in a way of guiding myself. Sneaking past this riot had been easier than I had expected it be, with no guards even looking my way. Amongst the rubble – this place had never been well kept – I found a gate, the hinges creaking as I pushed it open, I winced, praying that no one had picked up on the sound. Thankfully the coast seemed to be clear and I continued creeping forward against the wall, my breath shallow and caught in my throat, the distant sound of the rebellion roaring in my ears. I prayed with everything I had that Lucy was safe, that she had stayed where I had told her and had not joined the slaves in their fight. Oh, those poor slaves. They barely stood a chance against the armed guards; they had no weapons, just fists, and what good was that against a steel sword. The crisp air caused goose bumps to rise along my arms, raising the hair, but I ignored it, checking over my shoulder as I heard a door slam. I immediately sank into a crouching position, hugging to the wall to cover myself in the shadows, as I saw a guard of medium height, about five feet, nine inches, with long black hair that grazed the back of his shoulders emerge from the house on the right of the courtyard. He wore a frightened look, his pace quick as he glanced around the vicinity for the eyes that he knew were watching him. His leather armor – the weakest of all armor – rubbed uncomfortably against his muscular body as he continued to search, pausing briefly as if to listen for my breathing. Thankfully, the night covered me, hiding me in its cloak, and using this to my advantage, I crept towards the lonely man. He turned, satisfied that he had found nothing and under the impression that there was in, fact, nothing to find. I glanced toward his target, a large stone building, nearly a tower, with ivy wrapping around its base. I knew that Chec was in there, the king was always in the largest house, and this man that I followed was more than likely one of his ambassadors, coming to bring news of the rebellion, if Chec did not already know.

I reached towards my belt, fingers wrapping tightly around the handle of my dagger, twisting it in my wrist as I approached the man. He heard me, swinging around to face me completely, his mouth moving as if saying words, but no sound reaching my ear. I knew this man, I knew him all too well. I froze, eyes fogging over, the man no longer there, as flashbacks tore through my mind.

_I smiled at my art work, taking the quill and tracing over the lines again, making them bolder, more obvious to the eye. I leaned back in my chair, observing the picture – one of a small house, with my family, especially my father, in the yard, my sister and mother dressed in queenly material and myself and my father in kingly – I had drawn. I pressed my tiny, chubby fingers to the drawing of my father, who had his arm slung around me, and as a result – and to my great disappointment – I smeared the not-yet-dry ink. I frowned, quickly trying to fix it, when a knock on our door interrupted me. _

_I stood to my feet, heading for the door, as I always had done in the past, and reached for the doorknob. In the living room, my mother was peeking through the window, but I took no notice of this and instead started to unlock the door, standing on my tip-toes in order to reach the lock. _

_"Peter!" My mother's frantic cry reached my ears, and ignoring my current task, my tiny legs pounding against the ground, I rushed to her side, taking in the sight of her squatting next to my younger sibling, her arms wrapped around her in a protective, almost crushing hug. My mother's pale blue eyes looked up at me, taking my hand and pulling me to her side. She kissed me on the brow, her breath hot against my forehead, and hugged me. I gave her a confused look, attempting to peer at the door over her shoulder. _

"_Mummy, someone is at the door." I tried to inform her, tugging her much larger hand towards the front door. She yanked me back, fear transparent in her crystal blue eyes, eyes so similar to mine._

"_No, Peter." She said sternly, swallowing thickly as tears spilled over from the tear ducts in her eyes, falling on Lucy's silky hair, frightening the both of us. "Those are bad people, Peter."_

"_Who are they?" I whispered, my small mind trying to comprehend my mother's fear, "Are they gonna hurt us?" _

_She smiled weakly, a lame effort in looking pleased, and ran a hand through my blonde hair, pausing to press her palm against my cheek. She shook her head, "They're not gonna hurt you, Peter. I'm not gonna let them."_

_The door knocked again and I jumped, gripping my mom's hand in fear. She took it, standing to her feet, Lucy clutched to her mom's side, screaming out, "Mummy!" before pressing her face into the nape of her neck, crying softly. I was frightened as well, unaware of what was going on and confused by my mother's fear. The knocking on the door continued to increase, and outside, I heard several men talking. My mother ignored it, running through the kitchen into the room just at the bottom of the stairs. She pulled up a trap door, one we used if tornados, storms or raids ever came through, and pushed us down the small steps. We scrambled into the corner, clutching at one another as our mother knelt to her knees, taking both of our hands in her own. I wrapped my free hand around Lucy's shoulder, pulling her against my small body and looking up at mother in confused, scared that she was scared. She leaned over, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder, and kissed Lucy on the forehead and then repeated the same for me. "I love you both," She whispered, blinking rapidly as if that would force the tears back into her ducts, "so much."_

_"Mum, what's happening?" I asked, another knock causing me to tense against my sister's side, her small hands clutching at the fabric. "Who are those people? What do they want?"_

_"Lucy, cover your eyes. Lucy, listen to me - yes, good girl. Keep them covered. Peter, do you remember the men that came for Daddy? All those years ago? You do? Good, they are back. I know, you're scared. I am too, Peter, but listen to me. Do you remember how Daddy kept us nice and safe? I know you miss him, but he made me promise never to let you go. They're not gonna take you, they're not gonna take my babies. Not as long as I am alive - yes, I promise. If somehow I fail, oh don't cry, I want you to listen to me, okay? Look after your sister. Protect her, you - yes, you can do it, Peter - you are a big boy now," She smiled gently, Lucy uncovering her ears as my mother reached to take both of our hands in her own. She folded our hands together with her own, bringing both of them to her lips and kissing them, "Lucy, dear, you must be a big girl. Be brave, yes? And always, always remember that I am with you. Aslan is with you. Yes, Daddy is too. We all love you so much and we always will. Make mommy proud," she turned to me, tears welling in her eyes, face puffy, "Peter, my dear, you make me so proud. You are the spitting image of me and I know, I just know, you will make a good man. I love you so much, and - I know this hurts, Peter, but you have to listen - be brave, my dear. You have to be a big boy."_

_The door splintered open, the hinges breaking against the restraints and footsteps entered the house. My mother reached over, kissing both of us on the forehead - lingering for a moment as if she was unsure she would be able to do this again - whispering 'I love you' before standing up to exit up the stairs. Lucy called out for her mom, her small hands reaching towards her, clutching at air in hopes of finding warm arms to encircle her. Our mother pressed a finger to lips, before closing the latch. I pressed a hand over Lucy's mouth as she began to cry, straining my ears to hear what was occurring just outside the door. _

_"What is your name?" A gruff voice broke through the cracks in the wood, reaching my small ears, and I could see the shadows fall over the light through the same cracks. Lucy trembled against my form and my arms tightened._

_"Carmela." Our mother responded gently, "May I help you? Would you like anything to drink, kind sir?"_

_"Where are your children?" Boots clanked loudly against the wooden floor, and a shadow fell over our faces as he stood directly above us. Lucy started to sob, and I pulled her tighter to my side, muffling her cries against the fabric as I continued to try and hear what was happening. My mother's smaller, much fainter footsteps – followed by her shadow – stepped toward the cupboard, opening it to get a wooden cup. Why was she not scared? _

_"What children, sir?" She handed him a cup of water, her footsteps falling quiet for a second, the shadows unmoving, "I have bore no children."_

_"Don't lie to me. We know you have half breed children." He growled, lifting the cup to his lips, and then wiping his hand across his mouth to remove the drop that I imagined dribbled down his bearded chin, "You married a man from Archenland, and you yourself are a Calormene."_

_"Yes, I did, but we were never able to bear children. Must you bother a poor widow?"_

_Suddenly, I heard metal sliding against metal, the light reflecting off its surface and shining through the cracks of the wood, falling onto my sister's brilliant hair. My mother gasped, dropping her cup and letting it roll on the floor above us, a few drops of water escaping into our hidden location. The man's voice was stern, and he had raised it to nearly a shout. He approached my mother, his shadow stopping directly beside hers, before hers stepped back in fear, raising her hands to her mouth. He followed her, shadow looming over our enclosed space, "Do not lie to me! The villagers have told me of your children! Where are they! You know we do not support half-breeds in this land! They are not natural!"_

_"I have no children!"_

_He huffed, his shadow twisting to face the other way, his boots retreating towards the room that held the door to where Lucy and I hid. My mother followed, frantically trying to convince him that she had no children, but the man ignored her. He suddenly stopped, just above the trap door, at the sound of his boots making a different noise on the wood that was disguised as the door. He stomped, hearing the hollowness beneath it and turned to my mother, probably smiling a wicked smile. "What do we have hear?"_

"_A storm door, sir." She responded, her voice calm in an attempt to try and sell the story to the man that was clearly not buying it. "Nothing more."  
_

_He knelt, his knees against the wood, and hand on the hatch, just about to pull it open when my mother reached for his arm, yanking him towards her. The shadow hand reached, slapping away the other shadow and knocking my mother to the ground. She did not rest though, again standing to her feet and reaching for his arm, this time a different shadow was in the place of her hand. It looked sharp, like that of a dagger or kitchen knife. He turned, knocking the sharp shadow away and driving his own, much sharper, shadow into the side of the shadow across from him. The shadow of my mother. He had stabbed her. _

_Lucy inhaled to let out a frightened scream, but I covered her mouth, squeezing my eyes shut as the latch opened and light fell onto our trembling figures. I heard his breath, a faint chuckle, and I opened one eye to peer up at the man. Dark hair, dark eyes, just like my father (just like the man who had taken my father). He peered down at me, running a hand through his long, greasy hair, and smiled, muttering to us in a strange voice, "Hello, children."_

_I covered my sister's eyes as he and his men lifted us from the room, and tore us away from everything we'd ever known. The trap door still left open with my mother's hand outstretched towards it and blood pooling on the ground._

"Y-You." He stuttered, fear passing through his eyes.

"You remember me." I whispered, "You remember me."

He nodded, his face now white in fear. He knew I was angry. He knew I had every right to be. He swallowed thickly, casting a quick glance toward the large house, "Why have you come here?"

My eyes narrowed, "You remember me."

He nodded again, "I do."

"Then you know exactly why I am here." My hand clenched on the dagger, my other hand reaching for my sword.

He gasped and then quickly took off at a flat sprint towards the house. I was after him in seconds, grabbing his cloak and pulling him back. He tripped over his feet, landing in the dust in front of me. He struggled against my hold, screaming towards the house for help. I ignored his desperate calls, flipping him over to look at me. He stared at me in fear, trembling underneath me. "Are you going to kill me?"

I answered his question with a dagger to his throat. His eyes widened, coughing as blood gathered in his mouth. He started to choke, unable to inhale any oxygen for his lungs. He clutched at his throat, at my hands, trying to pull the dagger away. I held it firm. I had never been this angry, not once; all I wanted was for this man to die, to feel the misery I had felt when he had taken me away from everything I knew, killing my mother and bringing me to this hell-hole. He was the reason I was here, the reason my sister was here, the reason my mother had laid on that ground, blood soaking into her clothing. I watched him die without any remorse and unlike the gryphon, there was no sickening feeling in my stomach, but a feeling of pleasure and joy.

I had finally found him and killed him. Darkness crept into my vision, and my muscles were tense, pulling the dagger from his throat, wiping it on my pants. I stood, glancing toward the door, freezing in my spot as I saw two men, both with drawn bows pointed towards me, and Chec standing behind them. Chec glanced at the dead man, then back to his guards, before motioning me to follow him. I stood still, unwilling to trust the man in front of me. He smiled at my unwillingness, "Come on, Peter. I won't hurt you. Just want to talk."

I nodded towards the guards, "Tell them to lower their weapons."

Chec stared at me momentarily, his yellow eyes searching mine for some kind of warning before he motioned for the guards to put away their weapons. They did so slowly, stepping out of the way as I followed Chec, keeping my distance, into the building. The door closed behind us, the guards standing beside it, eyes glued on me. Chec pulled up a velvet-cushioned chair next to a wooden table, and then moved to grab another chair, placing it across from the previous one. He motioned for me to sit in the nearest chair while he strutted across the room to grab a bottle of cheap wine off of the shelf in the corner, dusting it off and grabbing two glass cups. He uncorked the bottle, pouring the red liquid into the cups and offering one of the fine cups to me, clinking it against mine with a forced, "cheers", before taking a seat across from me. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward, and twirling the cup in his fingers, the liquid sloshing against the sides of its container.

We were silent for a moment before Chec cleared his throat, setting his glass down in front of him and leaning back against the chair, yellow eyes focused on me. "Peter, what are you doing here? I thought I granted you freedom." The creases by his eye wrinkled as he smiled, his rotting teeth shining through as he let out a thunderous laugh, "I thought you would be fucking the king right now."

I didn't say anything, just pressed the glass rim to my lips, sipping the red liquid and forcing myself to swallow. I had never liked the taste of alcoholic beverages, and the fact that this wine was poorly made didn't help the fact. I looked up at him, questioning him with my eyes, "The king doesn't even know I am here."

Chec cocked an eyebrow, smirking, "Oh, is that so? How has your stay with the crowned heads been?"

"Fine." I muttered, casting my eyes to the ground as I took another forced drink, "They are very kind. Though you have put the king under a great amount of pressure with this war."

"The king has seen worse," was all he said as he downed his glass, slamming it on to the table with more force than necessary, "He thinks he can kick me out of my own land, ha! Do you know what's even worse? The king is younger than me, yes, younger," he paused, shaking his head in disbelief, "by fifteen years!"

"Aslan appointed them." I responded, shrugging, "He knew what he was doing."

"This _Aslan," _He spit out the name, disgusted with himself for saying it,_ "_disappeared seven years ago. He is hardly something to count on these days. You see, I don't just hate the king for no reason, no not at all, I have reasons. You see I was alive when the White Witch reigned over Narnia. I was there for it all."

I was surprised, wondering why I had never realized how old Chec was or calculated the fact that he would have been around during the White Witch, "And you think the White Witch reigned better than Edmund and Susan?"

"Absolutely," He shrugged, leaning forward once more to pour another drink, "Of course, I was living north of the boundary at this time, but I knew her methods. With her, all you had to do was keep your head down and respect her without questioning her. She kept Narnia under control."

"A government where people had no voice," I whispered, "sounds like a dictatorship to me."

"Dictatorships are better, Peter. That's what you need to learn. There are fewer issues."

I shook my head, leaning back, unable to bear the taste of the liquid anymore. Again, we lapsed into silence that made the air around us tense. He opened his mouth to speak, before closing it as if he was unsure if he should say anything. I raised an eyebrow, daring him to say what he wanted to say. He shook his head as if shaking off his nerves and narrowed his eyes at me, "You hoped by returning here, you would this war by, say, killing me, am I right?"

I said nothing.

"Ironic, doesn't it seem, that to end a war, you must start another?"

His words made no sense to me and I stared at him in confusion, but otherwise said nothing. He shrugged, as if the fact that I had come to end his life did not bother him. He smiled occasionally and continued to drink from his glass, eyes resting on me the entire time. I, however, allowed my glass to sit, half-full, on the table in front of me, unsure what my next move was, just that it would have to be quick and smooth, with no hesitation in the middle. I could throw the dagger, killing him in one hit, but my aim was unpracticed and I would more than likely miss. I could also reach over the table; stab him directly in the heart before he had a chance to scream for help. I reached into my pocket, taking out the bottle, all the while watching Chec cautiously, occasionally glancing at the guards to make sure they were also oblivious, before I carefully and quietly placed it between my legs and unscrewed the cap with my free hand. While moving the dagger towards the bottle, I reached my other hand up and took a sip of the wine, in order to distract Chec. He watched me obliviously, until the dagger clanked quietly, yet loud enough for Chec to hear, against the glass bottle.

"What do you have there?" Chec questioned, attempting to peer over the desk towards me. The guards stepping forward to check what I was doing.

I acted quickly, standing to my feet – the glass falling from my lap, shattering into millions of broken shards on the floor, red liquid pooling around my feet - and lunged across the desk, knocking papers and books, as well as the bottle of wine, from the desk between us. I landed on Chec, my hands grabbing his biceps and forcing him out of his chair and onto the ground. He struggled against me, pressing his large hands against my chest, but it did not faze me. I raised my hands, both wrapped around the handle of the poisonous dagger, and bringing it down into his chest. He let out a strangled scream that was soon cut off as pain shot through his entire being. He looked at me, his body convulsing violently underneath mine, just as the guards caught on what was happening. I jumped off his body, leaving the dagger in his chest, and moved out of the way of the incoming arrow. I unsheathed my sword, running towards the much larger one, who dropped his bow and unsheathed a much smaller, less sturdy sword and held it towards me. I clashed swords with him, my eyes focused on his, trying to figure out a way to win this fight because in full knowledge, I knew I had no experience in weaponry. I managed to find an opening, and struck the man just beneath his chin, slitting what looked to be a vein and watching as he fell to the ground.

I had forgotten about the second guard, until something knocked me off balance, causing my eyes to tear away from the body on the floor. I looked back at the guard, who was restringing yet another arrow, and then to my arm, which, to my surprise, had an arrow protruding from it. I felt no pain, merely shock, as I realized I had been shot. I yanked the arrow out, approaching the man, who I noticed had no sword. With the hilt of my sword, I knocked the bow from his hand and drove the arrow into his throat. His blood splattered on my face and he fell to his knees, then eventually landed on his face. I stared after him in disgust, before turning around and walking slowly towards Chec's convulsing body.

I wiped the blood from my face with the back of my hand and knelt down beside me. He stared at me in fear, realizing I was never joking about killing him. He grabbed my arm, nearly smacking me as his body let out another series of convulsions, "What have you done?"

I just smiled, wickedly I am sure, and carefully pried his fingers from my arm, placing them on his chest, "Now you feel the pain I have felt for years."

He watched me, his eyes slowly losing their light, but he was fighting the poison, trying with all his might to push the darkness away from his vision. I felt anger creeping into my heart, into every nerve within me, and I felt it slowly start to control me, just as it had with the man lying dead in the courtyard outside. I was suffering from a blind rage, something I would normally fight, but today, at this moment, I let it own me completely. I tore the dagger from his chest, realizing I had missed his heart and that is why the poison was taking longer than it should, and with a scream of frustration, I drove it into his arm. I yanked it away again, stabbing him in the side and the arm, the leg and the stomach, anywhere I could see, I stabbed. Hot, angry tears escaped my eyes, rolling down over my cheeks and falling onto the man below me, the light in his eyes long gone. I knew fully well that he was dead, but that did not stop my actions. It did not stop the pain – the same pain I had been holding within me since the day I was brought here - as I thought it would.

"_Shave his head," the man bellowed, shoving me towards yet another stranger that handled me more roughly than I pleased. I kept my fingers wrapped around Lucy's, swearing I would never let her go. Even at a young age, I knew how important it was to hold on, to stick together, "then send him to Chec."_

_Another man emerged from behind the doorway, approaching us at a brisk pace, and with one large, flabby hand, he grabbed Lucy's shoulder, yanking her towards his body. I screamed out, trying my best to break free of the man's hold on me, my small hands reaching for my baby sister. My small body was unable to break free; I was too weak. I watched as they took Lucy into a separate room, her beautiful eyes welling up with unshed tears. I screamed for her, telling her it would be okay, that I would find her._

"_Stop struggling!" The man yelled, his rough voice causing me to startle, but I ignored him and continued my attempt to break free. He sighed, as if he was annoyed, and backhanded me, sending me to the ground. Too stunned to realize I was free, I stared up at him, my hand over my swollen cheek. He grabbed my arm, yanking me to my feet again and forcing me to look at him, "You will obey, you hear me, boy? If you don't obey, you don't live." _

_I stared at him with the innocent eyes of a mere child, wondering why I couldn't be like the other children, playing on the street, laughing with my friends. Why did I have to be brought here and the other kids simply get to stand and watch me pass? Was it because I looked different? I never thought that anything was wrong with my looks, I was just 'more handsome', as my mom always said, than the others. _

_I learned differently when I was brought to Chec, a mean, ugly looking man who glared down at me with creepy yellow eyes. He called me a half-breed, a 'mutt', 'unnatural'. _

_Pain crept into my being and I lowered my head as a single tear dropped from my blue eyes. At just eight years old, I had seen my mother die and my childhood end. I was no longer allowed to be like the other children, this was my life._

_I wondered if the pain I felt now would ever go away._

I had, since that day, been suppressing the pain I felt, the hatred and anger I had towards the world. Was this world so cruel that if you were born different, you were not of value? How could that man bring me here? How could he kill my mother? How could Chec make me a piece of his property? How could he rape me? How could he have taken away everything I knew and loved? Why had he done this to me? He was a horrible person; _he_ was the one unworthy to live. I hated him. I hated him so much.

My arm began to ache, the pain from the arrow just now starting to settle in, yet I did not stop – I couldn't even if I wanted to. I continued for who knows how long, the act becoming subconscious, without thought. I was growing tired, my arm stinging, but I continued. I continued and continued and continued stabbing the lifeless body. I felt like a murderer, but the thought did not bother me for some reason. My mind was in a state of complete numbness. I was not sad or happy, and his death brought me no emotion. The motions of stabbing were robotic and the tears uncontrollable, I didn't even feel them fall down my cheeks. For several moments, I felt as if I had no control over my body or my actions, instead I was just forced to watch this psychotic murder with an eerie resemblance to myself stab this man repeatedly. I could not stop him.

Suddenly, strong hands pulled me to my feet, wrapping arms around my body and holding me still. I fought against them, shouting protests the entire time, not thinking of what I was saying or doing. I was just _doing_. The arms did not move and instead turned me to face the body of their owner. The chest was hard and cold, but familiar in every way and slowly I felt myself being brought back down to earth, back into control of my body, back to life.

"Let me go!" I cried, tears overflowing as I pushed the stranger away from me, "You have to let me go!"

"He's dead, Peter! You have to stop!" A familiar voice whispered in my ear sternly, "You have to stop. He's dead. He's dead."

Edmund. I stopped struggling, relaxing in his hold. He was here. Edmund was safe. He was okay.

"It's okay, Peter." He whispered soothingly, "It's okay."

I cried against his shoulder, my arm wrapping around his side in a lame hug, before turning to meet him in a full-on hug. I clutched at him, at my anchor, pressing my face into his shoulder and willing the tears to stop falling. His hand rubbed soothingly on my back, whispering sweet nothings into the shell of my ear. I gave up at that moment; letting down the wall I had kept built around myself for so many years, and allowed Edmund to see me as I was. A broken man that never got a chance to grieve. He held me there, never letting go, and kissed my hair. I knew he knew what I was feeling. He knew what it was like to grow up too fast, being king at only twelve years old, and what it felt like to hold pain in until it ate at you. He was just as broken, if not more so, than me. As I realized this, I slowly pulled back, looking into his eyes for any kind of emotion. He, too, had let down his walls, allowing me to see through him for the first time. I saw anger, fear, sadness and pain. I saw the love he held for me, and above all, I saw that he too considered me to be his anchor, his protector. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to him and gripping his bicep as if to hold me in place. His hand was on the back of my neck, his lips soft against mine as he too cried into the kiss. We stood there, both broken men, both holding one another together.

He broke apart, staring at me wordlessly, before bringing my hand to his lips and kissing each knuckle slowly. I reached my good hand up and ran a finger through his dark hair, smiling at him gently. "You're safe."

He nodded, twisting his head to kiss the palm of my hand, "And so are you."

I turned, for the first time since it had happened, to look at the mess of a man on the floor behind me. I gasped at the amount of stabs in his body, realizing just how out of control I had been.

Edmund suddenly gasped, his face horrified, and his hands now on my arm, "Peter, you're hurt!"

I had forgotten completely of the wound, my body still in shock. My hand covered Edmund's, whose was now covered in blood, my hands feeling the warm liquid that spilled forth from the wound. Edmund acted quickly, grabbing his knife from his belt and cutting off both sleeves of his long sleeve shirt. He tied them together to extend its length and then wrapped it around my bicep, pulling it tight in order to stop the bleeding, and tying it against my armpit. He looked up at me, kissing my lips momentarily, before pulling me towards the door, "We'll get you help."

We exited the door, stepping past the three bodies that lay just outside the door. I looked back at them, at the single wound through their heart or throat, and then back to Edmund, "You killed them?"

He nodded, pulling me across the yard, not offering an explanation of the three mysterious bodies. Had they been coming for me? I mused on this until I realized that the commotion was no longer there, there was no sound of fighting off in the distance. My stomach sunk as pessimistic thoughts racked my brain, "Are they okay?"

He seemed to understand what I meant by 'they' and nodded, "We got here in time, thankfully. There were few remaining, but we saved them. The guards are dead."

I paused, "How did you get here? How'd you know I was here?"

"Your sister came back on Gerald, told me there was a rebellion going on. I gathered as many soldiers as I could and flew here on gryphons."

"My sister..." I whispered, praying for the right answer, "...is she safe?"

He nodded, giving me a quick smile, "She's back at Cair Paravel. The guards are looking over her, just in case Cair Paravel is attacked, though I doubt it will be."

"The slaves..." I cried, bowing my head to hide my shame. I had caused this rebellion, I had caused the deaths of many, "...they didn't stand a chance."

He looked at me with sympathy as he continued to help me across the yard, his arm around my waist. I leaned my head against his shoulder, wondering how much damage I had managed to do with my stupid stunt. "The war isn't over, is it? Chec's death solved nothing."

"Not quite," he shook his head, "Unfortunately, the war has been brought here."

"What?"

"The Free Narnians and Archenland heard of the rebellion. Rumors have it that they're on their way here. The war has just started."

I leaned my head on his shoulder, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought if I killed Chec, the war would be over. I thought I could finish this. I thought I was helping. I'm so sorry. I never meant to make things worse."

He smiled, leaning over to press his lips against my cheek. "You did help, Peter. You helped wipe out one of the three enemies. The war was inevitable, you've just made it possible for Narnia. You saved us, Peter."

I smiled, warmth filling my body. I had helped. I had saved Edmund. That is, of course, all I had wanted to do. He was all that mattered to me.

"I just wish you had told me." He whispered, "I was worried about you."

"I'm sorry." I apologized.

He shook his head, leading me into the slaves' courtyard. Several armored Narnians knelt beside wounded slaves, tending to them, while others covered the dead with sheets and carried them to a wagon that was stationed nearby. A tent had been set up behind the campfire; General Orieus was inside, leaning over and talking to a few military men. Edmund led me to a different tent, where a female fawn tended to the wounded. He set me down on one of the beds, brushing my hair away from my face, while motioning for a healer to come to me.

She bowed to Edmund, "Your Majesty."

He nodded towards her, his hand now held mine, thumb stroking my fingers, "He's been shot. Can you help him?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." She set down what she was currently working on and moved to my side to unwrap the bandage from my arm, observing the wound. "It doesn't look to be too bad. Just in need of a few stitches."

Edmund nodded while I tensed at the idea of a 'few' stitches. I had never had stitches before, therefore, I had absolutely no idea what they felt like. I scanned Edmund's arm, wondering if he, in fact, had had stitches, even though I knew this was a silly question. Of course he had stitches before, he was king and he had fought hundreds of battles where he more than likely had been injured at least once. He smirked, fully aware of what I was looking for, and squeezed my hand before releasing it to roll up his sleeve. On the underside of his arm was a large scar that could easily be mistaken for a vein. He smiled again, leaning forward and kissing my cheek, while whispering in my ear, "Werewolf, didn't hurt too bad. This won't hurt at all."

I still felt nervous as the healer brought a wet cloth to my arm, dabbing away at the blood. She gave me a reassuring smile – one that still did nothing for my nerves – and moved to apply a healing ointment to my wound. When this was finished, she grabbed a needle and thread, my eyes widening and grabbing Edmund's hand, and bent forward to focus on her work. The needle pierced my skin, causing a strange pinching sensation, and she began needling away. It hurt, as expected, but was not unbearable and I could easily bear it much to Edmund's relief. She sat back, dabbing the wound once more with a wet cloth and wrapping a fresh bandage around my bicep, and patted my knee, "All done."

"Thank you." I whispered. She nodded at my gratitude, bowing to the rising king and disappearing outside of the tent.

"Come on, let's get you saddled up." Edmund motioned for me to follow him, pulling on my hand and moving towards the exit.

I stayed dead still on the cot, glaring up at him while yanking his arm back to face me, "Saddled up for what?"

"To go to Cair Paravel?" He rose an eyebrow, a bemused smirk on his face. He pulled my hand again, attempting to get me to walk with him.

"I'm not leaving." I declared. "If you're fighting, then I am too."

"No, you are not." Edmund's voice was stern, but it did not faze me. I was not about to leave Edmund to fight in a war that I had started.

"I'm staying, whether you like it or not." I stood to my feet and headed towards a random tent, trying to guess which one was armory. "Show me where I can get armor."

"You're not fighting."

"I am."

"No, you're not."

"Fine, don't help me. I'll find the armory myself."

"Good luck."

I wandered aimlessly around, glancing into each tent to see if there was a selection of armor, but to my dismay I found nothing. I stopped, dead in the middle, next to the campfire and sighed. I spun on my heels, facing him and raising an eyebrow and trying to work my 'sad face' on him, "Please?"

"The battle is not for another day or two," He muttered absent-mindedly, "You don't need armor right now."

"Another day or two?"

"Yes. Archenland isn't exactly close to here and," he motioned for me to follow him to a rather large tent, though not near as big as the one next to it, and pushed upon the flap to let me in, "it's kind of a silent rule that each army is given time to prepare. Anyways," he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I figured you'd end up staying, seeing as how you're all stubborn and that, so I had this tent set up for you. I'll be directly beside you."

I still wasn't use to being treated like some kind of royalty and stared, stunned at the red drapes and the overly ornate sheets and pillows. I looked back at Edmund and he smiled sheepishly, "I hope you like it."

"I _love_ it." I whispered as I ran my head over the silk sheets, similar to the ones that had pooled around Edmund and I's waist as we made love the night before, "You didn't have to."

"Yeah, yeah, I know I didn't. I _wanted_ to." He shifted to his other foot, dropping his hands by his side and motioning at the bed, "You should rest, you know. You've had a stressful day."

"It's not even evening yet." I complained, but sunk into the mattress anyway, leaning back against the duvets, "I'm not tired."

Edmund just smiled, "Sure, whatever. Goodnight, Peter. I love you," and backed out of the tent, leaving me to my room.

I smiled after him, yawning briefly and not even bothering to change before I closed my eyes. There wasn't much on my mind tonight, which was unusual – I always spent way too much time thinking – and this bothered me, somewhat. I sat up, unwilling to fall asleep quite yet. I heard the bustle of the soldiers arriving, setting up camp and occasionally Orieus shouting orders at some of them, Edmund's laugh in the distance. There was still that smell though, of dying bodies and burning flesh, and I wrinkled my nose, trying to block it out.

The only thing on my mind right now was that smell. How could people ignore it? That was the smell of death, nothing lighthearted or fun or ignorable. I knew Edmund must be used to it and I wondered briefly how many battles he had fought in, how many people he had killed. Did he still feel any sort of regret after he ran them through or the sickening feeling I had gotten when I had killed the gryphon? It bothered me, in a way, to think of just how many people had died at Edmund's hands, including his own brother and sister. I mean, I had never let on to it in any way – Edmund would be a mess if I did – that the murder of his brother and sister bothered me. But it did. A lot. It disturbed me actually.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. I couldn't think like that. He was different now. He was better. That's what mattered and with that, I fell asleep.


	15. Hurricane

_Crash, Crash, Burn, Let it all Burn_

_This hurricane is chasing us all underground_

-Thirty Seconds to Mars

I stared at the wall, unready to move and unready to fight, my fingers clutching at my belt. I wondered if I would it make through this battle, if I even stood a chance against the enemy that I knew was much more trained than myself. Would they not have me down within minutes, possibly seconds? I bowed my head, pushing a hand through my lengthening hair and sighing, because I no longer knew what to do. I felt as if I was at a standstill, caught between a rock and tough place, and that any action I made from here on would not change the future. Today, we fought, and I didn't even have a place to stand due to Edmund's refusal, of course, to put me in the line of battle and instead told me he would rather I stay put within the safety of the camp. Of course, I was ignoring him, I would not let my lover fight without me by his side, but his refusal rendered me helpless with nowhere to stand and no part of battle to partake in. I sighed, standing to my feet and exiting the tent, pushing open the flap to let the too bright light shine into my dark room, squinting my eyes as I searched for Edmund.

Edmund stood in the middle of the courtyard, his lean form clad in a black wrist-length, mock-necked aketon and black trousers, talking to a faun about who knows what, but whatever it was, I was sure it could be interrupted. I approached him, my hand reaching out for his bicep and he smiled as he turned to me, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips, almost as if he was courting me.

"Hey you," He whispered, completely ignoring the faun on his other side, who at the moment was glaring at me with quiet, intimidating eyes.

The faun was tall, taller than most fauns, but pale with large, deep-set brown eyes. He wore a crisp white shirt with black hems, his hair neatly combed back in a way that looked almost silly for his kin. His face was sharp, pointed, and he wore a rather smug look, scrutinizing me with his eyes the entire time. He tapped his hoof impatiently against the ground before sighing, dropping one hand – the hand that held a scrap of rough paper – and placing his other on his hip. He glanced at Edmund, "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but we have matters to deal with. The slaves can wait," He peered over Edmund's form to look me directly in the eye, an annoyed look on his face, "I'm sorry, umm... - oh buggers, what do you call a slave? - but you're gonna have to wait. The king is busy."

Edmund stared at me with a mixture of humor and annoyance at the faun. He suddenly swung on his heels to face the mysterious faun and offered a crooked smile, "Perhaps it's time I introduce you two," he motioned to me, "Ambassador Hert, I'd like you to meet Master General Peter." Both of us startled at the title, glancing over at Edmund as he beamed at me, the faun gasping and the annoyance leaving his face.

He stepped forward, offering his hand out to me, tucking the piece of paper under his arm. I took the hand as he ducked his head slightly to acknowledge me, "Forgive me, General Peter. It is always an honor to meet one of Narnia's finest."

I nodded at him, not sure what to say or if I was suppose to say anything at all. Edmund clasped a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it lightly, "He is one of Narnia's finest."

I pulled Edmund's bicep closer to me, stretching to whisper into his hear, "Master General!"

He pulled back, reaching over and kissing me, causing the faun to shift uncomfortably on his feet, er, hooves. His eyes were gentle, concerned, yet proud, and he offered me a smile, "I thought about yesterday and as much as it upsets me, you were right. You should be fighting alongside me. If it weren't for you, we never would have stood a chance in this war."

I beamed, but he held his hand up, "Before you get too excited, I've hired Orieus to teach you the basics of weaponry, and trust me, that is not something to be excited about."

I opened my mouth to ask him a question when the faun suddenly interrupted, holding up the piece of paper to me, "General Peter, do you believe this camp should be used as a base or do you think the tower," he gestured to Chec's quarters in the distance, "would be more sufficient?"

I glanced helplessly at Edmund, who shrugged, smiling at me, "Your call, General Peter."

"The camp has more space; we can hold them off better in here. The tower is limited and if they invaded us, it'd be too crowed to fight, I guess." I muttered, shifting nervously back and forth on the balls of my heel.

The faun seemed to like it, nodding before excusing himself and heading for some tent, leaving Edmund and I completely alone in the center of this courtyard. Edmund smiled at me proudly, taking my hand in his own and kissing it once more. He seemed unusually happy for someone that was about to go to war. I wanted to say something, but Edmund was already motioning someone over.

A giant centaur, with dark skin and even darker eyes, trotted up to us. His face was stern and he wore no smile, but pressed his lips into a thin line. He glanced at me, then to Edmund and back to me. Edmund motioned to me, a bemused smile on his face, "General Orieus, I'd like to present to you Master General Peter."

Orieus did not look pleased. I wouldn't be either if an untrained former slave was suddenly higher ranking than me.

"He needs training." Edmund said before he turned to look at me, "General Orieus rode into battle with my brother. He is a skilled fighter and will teach you well. He's taught me everything I know."

General Orieus sighed, his hand resting on the abnormally large sword at his flank, gazing at me tiredly, "Do you know how to handle a sword?"

I raised my hand and twisted it from side to side, "I know some."

"Some will not win a battle, sir. Come with me. We begin your training now." I had no choice but to follow him, glancing at Edmund just in time to see him wink at me before turning to follow the ambassador faun to the tent. I suddenly realized Orieus was talking to me and snapped back to attention, "First, I will teach you to wield a sword on foot, then you must learn how to wield while riding a horse or gryphon," he glanced at my body, "We'll exercise too."

I felt self-conscious.

We arrived at a grassy plain, just outside the slave camp, where the battle was to take place. I looked around, jumping when Orieus ordered me to remove my shirt. I did so without arguing or thinking and laid it by my side. I was not ashamed of my body, years of hard work had left it toned and muscular, but Orieus seemed unimpressed. He shoved me to the ground, face first in the dirt, and ordered me to get up. I stood up, astounded that he had just shoved me into the ground.

I faced him, mouth agape, "What was that f-"

My face was back in the dirt.

I moved my head to look back at Orieus, who stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest, "Get up."

I slammed my hands into the ground, standing angrily to my feet and whirling to face the centaur who I had become extremely annoyed with in the last few seconds. I opened my mouth to say something again, before a punch threw me backwards.

I rolled on the ground and laid there for a second. I lifted my head, wiping the back of my hand over my bloody lip and glared up at the centaur. What was wrong with him? Had he lost his mind? Was he that jealous? I stood again, "Listen, I know you're upset, bu-"

Again, for the third time, I found myself on the ground. I was pissed. I stood to my feet, glaring at the centaur the entire time, who still stood emotionless and not amused. His hand reached out to shove me again, but I moved out of his way, his hand nearly grabbing me. He attacked again and I moved to the left. Finally, a smile split on his face, and with one large hand he reached towards my right, causing me to move left, and with his other hand smacked me in the forehead. I fell to the ground, annoyed.

"You must duck," was all he said.

This was his idea of training? Edmund was right, this wasn't that exciting. I stood to my feet, dodging to miss the punch to my right side, then to my left, and finally to my head. I ducked in time, moving out of the way of the next attack.

"Quicker," He said as he threw a punch to my left shoulder, grazing it, "Anticipate my moves before they come. Watch my eyes the entire time. Watch me look for openings and act accordingly."

I stopped staring at his arms and looked into his dark brown eyes. His eyes flickered just for a second to my right and before he could punch me, I had already moved completely out of the way. I watched his eyes the entire time, noticing that his eyes would flicker before he moved, and I continued to escape him. He threw a few more punches, each missing, before dropping his hand to his side, "Now, some enemies, the more experienced ones, will not tell you with their eyes. You must watch their muscles, their shoulders and arms."

I nodded, "How do I know whe-"

A punch landed me in the grass again. I blinked. How did this keep happening to me? Wiping the blood away from my nose, I stood and faced him.

"You weren't watching my shoulders," He said simply.

My nostrils flared. I really was starting to dislike him and I did not understand his methods of teaching. They were painful and awfully rude. Nevertheless, I saw a vein in his shoulder puff up, becoming more prominent, and I moved out of the way of his punch. He smiled, "Good. Now, when I throw my next punch, move your hand to grab mine. Do not grab my fist, grab my wrist. You can shatter your hand if you grab my fist. Keep your fingers light at first, so he does not retaliate from the punch. Then," he held his hand out to show me, pressing his fingers along his wrist, "place your thumb here and your index finger here and squeeze. His fist will unclench. Grab his hand in your free one and twist, alright? Can you remember all that?"

I didn't have time to respond before his fist was being thrown in my direction. I did as he said, reaching to grab his wrist. I, unfortunately, did not move to the side and while I still had his wrist in my hand, his fist had made contact with my face. I felt more blood drip from my nose and I wondered if it was broken.

"You have to move," He explained.

"You never said that."

"I thought it was common knowledge."

I threw him a sarcastic smile and reached my hand up to wipe away the blood on my now, red sleeve. He showed me no mercy, again throwing a punch. This time I was smart, I moved out of the way, grabbing his wrist and pressing my fingers to the point he had showed me. His hand released and I grabbed it, twisting it over my head. I thought I had won, until suddenly the world was spinning and I found myself on the ground, facing the blue sky and wheezing as the breath was knocked from my lungs.

Had he just flipped me?

"Again,"

We did this exercise for what seemed like hours, until I was able to go against him for a few minutes, retaliating and blocking his throws. I was sore and tired and wanted this to end, but he had other plans. We stayed out on the grassy plain for several hours and eventually, much to my excitement, a sword was placed in my hands.

Some of the soldiers came to watch us, leaning against the stone wall, drinking and joking with one another in the sunset. I did not understand the mindset of any of these Narnians. Tomorrow, they faced war, yet they laughed and carried on as if there was a festival tomorrow. Even Edmund, who up until this time had been incredibly stressed, seemed to be having fun. He sat amongst the soldiers at one point, his eyes on me, occasionally laughing at some of the things the soldiers beside him were saying. Suddenly, he handed his cup to the man beside him, standing to his feet and brushing himself off before approaching me, sword drawn.

Orieus stopped in his tracks, swishing his tail around to swat at a fly that had landed on his rump. I turned to face Edmund, lowering my weapon and watching as he lifted the sword above his head, smirking at me, before bringing it crashing down on mine.

I had blocked it just in time, but his sword was heavy against mine and he was pushing with what seemed like all his might, forcing me to my knees. I continued to push up against his sword, my heels digging into the dirt beneath me. I remembered Orieus had taught me of this move and remembering how to retaliate, I suddenly pulled back on my sword, causing Edmund to stumble forward at the loss of contact. I shoved against the sword quickly, sending Edmund back, before standing to my feet.

The soldiers cheered in the distance, Orieus beside them, arms crossed as always. Edmund flipped the sword in his wrist, turning it horizontally and bringing it to clash against my vertical one. I moved out of the way as his next move was aimed for my feet, jumping back in just the right amount of time. I noticed, suddenly, that Edmund was now wielding two swords, a smile on his face. He seemed to get a thrill out of fighting and I found that I did as well. His first sword came for my chest, the second aimed at my feet. I blocked the one for my chest, reaching a foot up to step on the sword, yanking it out of Edmund's hand. He seemed stunned for a minute, realizing that he had underestimated me.

That's when I realized Edmund had been holding back this entire time.

Our swords clashed in midair, pressing against one another for a second, before Edmund pulled away, spinning in his spot and bringing his sword down against mine. He drove me back, forcing me to stumble over my feet, his eyes watching mine the entire time. With one final attempt at winning, I thrust my sword forward, but in a move that was all too famous, he clamped his arm down, forcing his body away from mine and effectively causing me to lose my sword. He unclamped his arm, grabbing the sword by the handle and flipping it over in his hand as he held both swords to me.

"I win." He smiled good-naturedly.

The group of soldiers was quiet and I wondered if I had done that badly. Orieus approached me from behind, placing a hand on my shoulder, "Impressive."

I glanced up at him, then back to Edmund, "Really?"

"Most men last about a minute or so with our royal king, you lasted five." I looked up at the centaur, realizing his face was scrunched up, as if he didn't like complementing people, "Impressive, indeed."

Edmund smiled, leaning over to press his lips against mine, making everyone, once again, uncomfortable. I pulled back, smiling at him to let him know I loved him, but unwilling to make anyone uncomfortable. He reached a hand to Orieus' forearm, clamping it as Orieus did his, and shaking it, "I think it's time we eat now, my friend."

I couldn't agree more.

We sat around the campfire and talked of past battles and wars already won. Edmund was not with us, but instead with the King of Calormen and the Ambassador of the Lone Islands finalizing plans for tomorrow. The women, servants and wives, served us food, a fine meat directly from Cair Paravel, fruit, bread, and wine. I ate quietly, listening to a young soldier, probably the youngest here, talk of his homeland. He was a Calormene who had lived just south of the Bight of Calormen with his parents until they had been moved to the King's castle to serve. His mother had been a maid, and his father a soldier, ' a damn good one at that'. Another man had called for his wife to entertain us, and she disappeared into the tent before emerging with a small wooden flute. She put her hair up in a bun, called for her sister and sat before us, crossing her legs in her lap and bringing the instrument to her lips. Her sister, who was just as beautiful as her, sat beside her, her hands folded together.

The first notes were beautiful and I leaned back against the log I sat in front of, closing my eyes and listening to the beautiful voice of the sister. It was a Narnian song, written specifically for the kings and queens of Narnia.

_You were meant to open doors_

_And you were meant to face the danger_

_Never knowing what's in store_

_And never having met a stranger_

_One of you is big and brave_

_And one of you is tenderhearted_

_One of you is tempting fate_

_And the last but not least has faith enough for each of you_

_And I know that we could never go alone_

_Cause I believe we'd be lost without you here beside us_

_It's like daylight at midnight_

_Four upon a throne adorned _

_It's my favorite dream when nothing's really as it seems_

_Don't wake me, just take me_

_Take me by the hand and I will believe_

_We have always been protected_

_Until her reign made the land chilled_

_Now, little ones should run and hide_

_But we have to come to expect the unexpected_

_When love arrives and prophecies are fulfilled_

_And I know that even though winter stays, I'll be fine_

_Cause they will get us to springtime_

_It's like daylight at midnight_

_Four upon a throne adorned_

_It's my favorite dream when nothing's really as it seems_

_Don't wake me, just take me_

_Take me by the hand and I will believe _

_Don't close your eyes_

_He's right beside you_

_Don't be afraid, He's never far_

_You were always meant to wake the dreamers from the dark_

She finished the song, smiling as she took a deep breath. We were all speechless at how amazing of a voice she had and just how quickly it had captured us all. Suddenly, one man laughed.

"That's definitely not the song I grew up hearing," He laughed, cracking his knuckles and laying his head back. He was a former Free Narnian, until Edmund, of course, had traveled to speak to the Free Narnian leader and on his way out had offered the man a job at the castle. He had reluctantly agreed, seeing as how he was an orphan and there was nothing left for him there. Edmund and Susan had treated him like family and provided him with food, a job, and shelter, but the young man's roots in the Free Narnians still came out from time to time, "Ours was definitely more…critical."

"Sing it," The wife enthused, a brilliant smile as the campfire highlighted her delicate face.

He looked nervous and unsure, but several of his friends clapped him on the back and told him to sing. He cleared his throat, his voice a little rough and shaky, and sang, "Darkness will devour the weak

From a world unknown to us, the woman appeared, Killed her sister for a kingdom she was never meant to reign, She is the devil in white. Traitor, a betrayal known amongst all, Traitor, why have you come here? Traitor, you must leave, Blind! Wake up! Change! It's time to end this! From a world unknown to us, the boy appeared, sold his soul to the devil in white, killed his brother for a kingdom he was never meant to reign-"

"Now sits on a throne of gold, as if his brother's blood is not on his hands. It's time to pay, you're gonna die no other way," a voice stated, not sang, and we turned to face Edmund, who's face looked more white than usual.

The young boy scrambled to his feet, holding his hands up as a sign of innocence, "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, it's just," he lowered his head, "they asked me to sing."

Edmund cleared his throat, nodding, but I could tell he was hurt by the song, "It's okay. I've heard the song before," He looked back to me, "Peter, can I see you for a moment?"

I followed him to his tent, closing the flap behind him as we settled into the dark room. Edmund made a move to light one of the candles by his cot and turned back to look at me, as if expecting me to say something. I swallowed thickly, "I'm sorry, Edmund, I di-"

He waved me off, coming to sit on the edge of his cot, "Don't apologize, it's not like I haven't heard it before."

"I'm still sorry." I whispered, coming to sit next to him and taking his hand in mine, wrapping my fingers around his lengthy ones and brushing my thumb along his own.

He shrugged and dwelt on it no longer. He turned, facing me with a look of complete seriousness, his eyes boring into mine, "I called you in here because, well, I wanna give you something."

My eyebrows rose, "Oh?"

He reached over the side of the bed, lifting what looked to be a heavy box and handed it to me, watching my expression the entire time. I held the box in my lap, my arms not able to wrap around it completely, observing its neat wrapping – blue silk with black rope tying it together – and the size of it. I glanced up at him and he nodded. I carefully undid the rope, letting it fall onto my lap, and the silk slid away, revealing a rather ornate box or small chest beneath it. I again looked at Edmund and he smiled at me encouragingly as I reached to open the chest.

Inside was a suit of armor. There was a long-sleeved hooded mail coat laced up the front with leather lacings. Three rows of gold links lined the outer edges of the chainmail, calling design to the sleeves, and lying on top of it were pieces of plate armor meant for my right side. The pauldrons, lying against the side of the box, had four plate layers each, held together by steel rivets. In the middle of the second plate was a gold medallion of a lion roaring. On the other side of the chest were the vambraces, which wrap around the lower arms, and placed next to them were a pair of red leather gloves, one glove (the right hand one) was covered with small steel plates edged in gold and etched in places with "bands" of tiny oak leaves. Jammed into the box, barely fitting due to its size, were greaves, each with a gold medallion in the kneecap area, for the shins and sabatons for the feet. Moving away the items to get to the bottom, my hand felt a velvet fabric and I pulled it out of the box. I stared at it, at its mere beauty and simplicity and 'regalness', and just everything. It was a deep, rich red, sleeveless tabard. The front and back hem, both gold fabric, came to a 'V', with splits in the sides up to the belt area. On the front of the tabard – above the patched rip from a sword - the design of rampant golden Lion is embroidered in gold. I stared in awe at the armor before me, just as Edmund clicked his tongue, standing to his feet and going to his bedside to grab something. He handed me two extraordinary pieces of weaponry.

One was a shield, made of curved wood about an inch thick. The front of it was covered with steel, etched with leaves and swirls, beginning at the bottom and fanning out in seven "branches", with a canopy of leaves at the top. Gold borders surrounded the etchings and etched on top of the canopy, in the center of the shield, was another rampant Lion, this time in red. Above his head, seven gold diamond shapes are etched into the shield. While the shield and armor were fantastic gifts, nothing prepared me for what he handed me next.

It was a scabbard, red leather with a steal chape fitted over the base and a locket – gold with a lion's face surrounded by rays stamped on the leather beneath it, over the mouth. Gripping the handle of the sword, which was covered with two segments of red leather with a ring of gold between them and another at the grip's base, I unsheathed a one-handed sword, beautiful in every way. The crossguard was being a straight steel bar with a small langet running parallel to the blade and the leather of the handle was embossed ornately with a diagonal stripe pattern, scrolls running between every line. The pommel, on the top of the handle, was the golden head of a line. The blade is broad and long with a gold inlay. Engraved in the blade, on one side, are the words, "When Aslan bears his teeth, winter meets its death," and on the other side, "when Aslan shakes his mane, we shall have spring again".

I looked up at Edmund, my voice hoarse when I spoke, "What are these?"

"Those are my brother's. He wore this into battle the day he," he stumbled over the words, struggling to get out the next one, but I silenced him, knowing what he meant, "Anyway, the sword was a gift from Father Christmas himself. After my brother, um, yeah, I kept it. It's called Rhindon, I don't know what it means, maybe John did, I don't know. Anyway it's yours."

I made a move to give back the gifts, not sure if I could deal with wearing a former king's – prince, actually – armor into battle. He shook his head, moving away from the box and standing to his feet, "John would want you to have it."

There was a bit of silence, before again Edmund spoke hoarsely, "I want you to have it."

I set the box on the ground, reaching Edmund who looked a bit teary, and snaked my hand around his neck, guiding his lips to mine. I kissed him carefully, knowing just how big of a moment this was for him. He pressed his tongue against my lips and I gained him entrance, opening my mouth to his and allowing him to walk me backwards to the bed. He climbed on top of me, laying his body against my own and never pulling his lips from mine. He kissed slowly, his fingers wrapped in my hair and his hips grinding against my own. I gently pulled back, my hand on his shoulder, and watched his face, "Edmund, we should stop."

Edmund's face became a mixture of horror and fear, leaning back as if he had been shot by an arrow.

"No, no, not like that," I quickly corrected myself, chuckling as Edmund relaxed against me, "I mean tonight. We need to rest, both of us."

He nodded, silently agreeing before rolling off of me and cuddling up beside me. I reached over and kissed his cheek, bidding him goodnight and stood to leave. He opened one eye, watching me leave, and shifted in his spot on the bed, "You can stay if you'd like."

I stopped, weighing the options: 1) I could go back to my room and sleep in the dark, by myself. 2) I could crawl into bed with Edmund and spend – though I didn't like to think about it – possibly my last night with him.

I chose the second option and clambered into bed, staring back at him as he watched me with dark brown, nearly black eyes. The moment was sweet; the love between us was electrifying, and I never been more mesmerized by someone than I was at this moment, by this king who could captivate me with simply a look.

"You know the rules if you sleep here though," He tugged at the blankets, emphasizing his point and the moment was over.

I laughed, shifting closer to kiss him gently on the lips before he turned away, as he always seemed to do in bed, and stretched his too-long limbs out beneath the sheets, "Love you, Pete."

I smiled and suddenly I understood. I knew now why some soldiers laughed and carried on as if there was no battle tomorrow. They knew, I think, that they were going to Aslan's country after death and if the stories were even slightly true, Aslan's country was a much better place than here. They weren't afraid, just nervous, because they knew no matter what everything was going to be okay in the end. They would see their families again. Then there were others, like Edmund, who did not worry over war because it was something they must do and something they've always had to do. The wars blended together after awhile and soon enough, battle becomes equivalent to signing a document. It's just something you had to do. They were logical, and knew whether they die at this battle or the next, they will still die. The last of the soldiers were like me, who feared battle because we knew about the losses and how the next day would be filled with tears and burials. We feared it because that battle might be the one that takes away our loved ones or ends our life before it even really begins. We are the ones who doubt Aslan, who don't have peace him in, and the ones that cannot compare battles and death to signing documents.

I wish I could have peace in Aslan or look at war as something that had always took place, therefore should not be feared, but the fact was, I didn't see war like that. So I continued to live in fear. Who knows, maybe after the battle tomorrow, I would feel differently about war. Perhaps I would adopt Edmund's view because in all honesty, I don't think I could ever have peace in something I barely believed in.

"I love you too." I whispered, hoping Edmund had not heard the tears that threatened to spill over as the fear of the upcoming battle took over me.

When I woke up, thanks to Orieus smacking me over the head – "You really should learn to be alert in your sleep" – I was rushed to my own tent and expected to dress for war. A male servant was ushered into the room, bowing at me before removing the armor from my chest. I blushed, wondering why he had bowed and why, above all else, he was here. I bashfully, undid my trousers, letting them drop to the ground as I took the tight black trousers from the boy.

He did not stare, nor did he blush, something I was thankful for because I was blushing enough for the two of us. It wasn't that being naked bothered me, no, I had been naked in front of almost all my fellow slaves, including the women. It was the fact that this boy was, well, I didn't know why I was actually bashful, perhaps it had nothing to do with me being naked. Perhaps it had everything to do with the fact that someone was helping me dress. Yes, that was it.

I pulled the chainmail suit on over my chest and then stepped into the pants, standing still as the boy did the straps in the back and then proceeded to sit on the bed while the boy strapped greaves to my shins. I watched him at his work, noticing just how fast and diligent he was at it, and wondered how old he was.

Might as well ask, I mused, "What is your name?"

He glanced up at me, black hair and black eyes – just like Edmund, yet with tan skin – and smiled nervously, "Simon, sir."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen, sir," He finished strapping the second greave on and moved to place sabatons on my feet, the metal shoe heavy compared to my usual wear, "If I may ask, how old are you, sire?"

"Eighteen," I responded, "Same age as the king, I think." It bothered me, suddenly, to realize I did not know how old Edmund was, nor had I ever asked him about his birthday or middle name or really anything about him. What was his last name? I frowned, putting it on my list of things to ask him.

"The king is seventeen, sir." He responded, "Almost eighteen."

I frowned, now I just felt awful. I barely knew Edmund and his past. I mean, I knew the bad parts, but that was it. I didn't even know his younger sister's name! Aslan, I was an awful human being.

"Do you know where he is from?" I asked, ashamed I had never asked Edmund that either.

"Spare Oom, sire." He said quietly, stepping back from his work to lift the tabard from the chest. "It's not of the Narnian world. Thy king and queen are from a different world. Only Aslan and themselves, though I think they have forgotten, know where it is."

"Different world?" It would make sense that something as beautiful as Edmund would be from a different world, though I felt jealousy, a new emotion to me, grow in the pit of my stomach. In this other world, Edmund had a whole other life with possibly a lover, "That is strange."

"Yes, sire."

I shrugged the tabard over my chest, the boy taking a seat next to me and lifting my arm in order to slip the red leather gloves on to my hands and then set to strapping the vambraces on. "Do you know their full names?"

"Edmund William Pevensie and Susan Anne Pevensie, sir."

I felt the name die on my tongue and wondering what else I did not know about him, but instead turned to questioning the boy, "How do you know so much about them?"

"I have lived at the castle since I was three, sir," He switched sides and worked at the vambraces on that side as well as the metal plates on my glove, "I also take a class on Narnian history."

"Are you Narnian?"

He shook his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he continued at the difficult strap, "I am Calormene."

"Really?" He nodded, finishing and moving to work on the pauldrons at my shoulder, "So am I."

He paused, fingers stopping in his work and gazing down at me, "You don't look Calormene. I mean, besides your skin."

I suddenly felt bashful again, resorting to looking down at my feet, at the metal shoes that now weighed them down. I really hated how I looked and I had forgotten that mentioning where I am from would automatically confuse people. Calormene were dark skinned, just as I, but with dark hair and black eyes. "My mother was Calormene," I corrected.

"Your father wasn't?" He went back to dressing me, not seeming fazed by the fact that I was a half-breed. Perhaps Narnians didn't care?

I shook my head, "He was from Archenland."

Simon nodded, acknowledging that he had heard me before stepping back to look at me. He sighed, ducking his head once more in a short bow, and turned to leave. I stopped him, my hand on his bicep as he turned to face me, "Thank you. Hopefully we'll meet again."

"Hopefully, sir." He smiled weakly, there was no light in his eyes, "It was nice to meet you, Sir…"

"Peter." I muttered, "Just Peter."

He nodded, backing away and disappearing behind the flap of the tent. I sat on the bed, breathing deeply, suddenly aware that I was fully dressed for war in nothing other than Narnian armor. Something I had never imagined would happen to me. There was suddenly hoof beats out of my tent and Orieus' voice broke through the wind, "Sir, there is a meeting now."

I exited the tent, nodding at him, fully aware that this was the very first time – and probably the last – that Orieus had called me 'Sir'.

We walked in silence to the tent on the left side of the courtyard, where several men and a few minatours and centaurs were bent over a map, discussing something in a hushed voice. I paused outside the tent, recognizing the dark hair that was hunched over, finger pointing at something, in the center of the group. He must have heard my footsteps because he turned, smiling at him – was it me or did he look less happy today? – and turning to face the group again, "Noble Ardeeb Tisroc of Calormen, Governor Gumpas of the Lone Islands, Chief Oscuns of the Wild West, Governor Roonwit of Aslan's Order, General Diggle of Calormen, General Rogin of the Lone Islands, Advisor Voluns of the Wild West, and Ambassador Pire of Aslan's Order, I'd like to present to you my chief general, Master General Peter."

They all bowed their heads in acknowledgement, though I was not paying attention to them. In fact, my eyes were only on Edmund and just how amazing, if that was even the right word, he looked in his armor. He wore dark trousers, possibly black or dark brown, I couldn't tell, with gold leaf embroidery up the sides, and an-off white long-sleeve shirt beneath his armor. A leather gorget is worn at his neck with a molded black leather cuirass – breastplate and back plate made up of about four leathers pieces – worn over it, extending a short distance just below his belt, ebony-embellished red leather. On his arms, he wears etched ebony plated armor and matching pauldrons on his shoulders, his feet hosting the same shoes I was, but ebony. His entire outfit his ebony, his eyes darkened against his pale skin, and he raises an ebony vambraced hand to rest on my shoulder. I noticed his black gloves were also plated, but his were sharp and jagged. He pulled me in, stopping me from my thought process, and pointed his gloved hand down to the map.

"I am going to have you stand here." He explained, pointing to the section just outside the courtyard, amongst the grassy plains, "Your job, General," he smiled at the name, "is to keep the enemy out of the courtyard. We lose the base, we lose the battle."

"Understood."

"Good," he traced his finger over the map, over the grassy plains, past the second stone wall that was lined a mile or so away from the first stone wall, and pointed at the barren wasteland just outside the stone wall. Thankfully, Edmund had thought this through and had brought the battle to the complete opposite side of the camp and had spared the village nearby from battle. "The armies are clashing here. General Orieus, you and I must lead the army in front lines, understood?" he nodded, "Good. While the Narnian army is attacking here, the Calormene army," he pointed west of the soon-to-be battlefield, "will be attacking here. Stay hidden for as long as you possibly can, shoot only with your arrows, unless they approach you."

"My country is known for its fine marksmen." The noble bragged, earning only a nod from everyone surrounding us. He silenced, finally nodding at Edmund, "We will hold them off as long as possible."

"Good. Lone Islands, you and your men will take the long route," he drew a circle with his finger, going around the entire wood and bringing them around so they, in a sense, faced the Narnian army, "I know your men are excellent marksman, knock out as many as you can from behind. Wild West, you will be fighting alongside the Narnian army, if you approve, that is."

He looked to the chief, who nodded briefly, "We would be honored to fight alongside such a great ally."

Edmund nodded appreciatively, and then glanced up to the final rulers left: the Governor and Ambassador of Aslan's Order, "I know you are a peaceful order and I know you have no warriors among you. That being said, I want to thank you for going against your beliefs and helping Narnia. I know magic is prominent in your people, I was hoping you could act as healers for the weak and injured."

The governor turned to his ambassador, both high elves from what I could tell, their faces covered in strange tattoos and magic scars, "We'd be honored, King Edmund."

Edmund again nodded, leaning back to look at the men before him, "Thank you for your service. You are all great allies and if the help is ever needed, my men and I would be more than happy to return the favor."

The men left, each nodding at Edmund as they exited, heading off to gather their weapons and saddle their horses, leaving Edmund and I alone. Edmund turned, leaning his lower back against the table and studying my face, "Are you nervous?"

I didn't want to admit that my insides felt like they were going to cave into the bottomless pit that had become my stomach or that my palms were sweating like crazy, so I lied, shaking my head and shrugging it off as if it were no big deal. Edmund looked away momentarily, his eyes in a faraway place and for the first time, since he had arrived or actually since I had met him, he looked afraid. "Good, because I sure as hell am."

"Why?" I asked simply, not sure I could make myself say anything else.

He looked back at me and he didn't look like a king anymore. He looked like a small boy, drowning in armor that was much too big for his body, fear bouncing in his large brown eyes, lost in the middle of a battle that only adults should participate in. He breathed, "Usually, I know we'll win the battle. I always have this like gut feeling, but today….today, I don't have that. I mean," He sighed, "I don't know. Sometimes, I feel like the little boy back in England, er, Spare Oom, all lost and unsure, caught up in this war that I don't understand. I mean that's what I still am. I'm still twelve, Peter. Time doesn't pass back in my land, not when I'm here, at least. I'm still twelve. God and it's just like, I don't know. I'm just the boy that got bullied in the lunchroom every day," I watched as his face scrunched up in confusion as he struggled to say what he was feeling, though my thoughts were still on the bullying statement. How could anyone beat up, or even want to beat up Edmund? "I'm not a king. Hell, I'm not even close to a king in England. I live in the suburbs, err, you don't even know what that is. I'm poor in England, my dad is a soldier, a warrior, and my mom doesn't work. We have literally no money and now, just because of one wardrobe I'm suddenly a king? That doesn't make any sense. None of this did, god, there are goat-men, and horses with humans growing out of them. I mean seven years ago the idea of all of those was outrageous. Talking animals, really? Damn, I don't even know what I'm trying to say."

I didn't say anything, just continued to listen as he let all of his feelings out in confusing, scrambled words, my hand pressed to his arm the entire time.

"It's just," he said finally, "How could Aslan pull me out my country, put me in a land of talking animals and moving trees – something I didn't know anything about – and expect me to rule over everyone at twelve years old? How could a prophecy be written about me when I belong in a different world? There's just so much goddamn pressure. John could have handled this; he would have done so easily, because he was never a boy. He was always a man; he was always destined to be king. Not me, Pete. I'm just a boy."

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing as he ducked his head and let a single tear fall from his cheek. He inhaled deeply, calming himself, before turning to look at me with fear in his voice. "You know what scares me the most? _Going back._ Because going back means leaving _you_. I know I'm going back one day because I have to, because right now, England doesn't exist. Time isn't moving there, they're just stuck like that until I return and I know they don't know, because they can't know, because no time has passed for them to figure it out, but they can't be stuck like that forever, can they? If Susan and I die here, what will happen to England? Will time just pick up again and four children have suddenly gone missing? I don't know, it's all too confusing. But if I go back, and I know I will one day, you will be dead within minutes of my time, just from old age, Pete. I really don't know what I'm saying."

"I think, I think Aslan picked you for a reason," I whispered, Edmund's head turning to look my way again, "He knew, in the long run, you would turn out to be a better king than your brother, but he knew that in order to make you the ruler you are today, you had to lose something precious to you. I don't know for sure, but it's a theory. People say Aslan always has a plan. And, I think you should change your perspective on time, you've been given something many dream for. You get to live twice, Ed, and not make the same mistakes you made the first time around. If for some reason, Aslan takes you back to your world, you can make a better person of yourself, do things right."

His eyes didn't move away from my face, and I would have kissed him then gone on speaking, but a horn interrupted our thoughts and Edmund's face turned toward the sound, "The armies are approaching. We have to go."

He pushed off the table, heading towards the exit, until I pulled him back and pressed my lips once more against his. He paused, savoring the moment and pushing a gloved hand through my blonde hair. We stood there for a moment, kissing each other as hard as we possibly could, savoring each taste and feel and sound as if it was our last, because it quite possibly could be. My eyes still closed, because I didn't want to see Edmund walk away, the lips left mine and footsteps could be heard retreating. I slowly opened my eyes, realizing I was alone, and felt heaviness within me. I ignored it, heading out of the tent, searching for Edmund momentarily but he was nowhere to be found, before approaching a group of soldiers waiting nearby. One approached me with a helmet in one hand, the reins to a horse in another.

I stopped to glance at the horse, hoping it was Gerald, only to find that was a dumb bay, who stared back at me lazily. I sighed, missing my friend, before swinging into the saddle. I looked back at the expecting men, turning my horse to face them, and studied each of their anxious faces, "Um, ready?"

Some men seemed surprised, as if I was supposed to make an elaborate speech, while others just nodded and followed me to our designated spot. After they were all lined up, I turned to face the small patch of woods, waiting for the battle, for any sign of an enemy. Archers stood on the stone wall, bows ready for attack.

We waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Battles weren't all that exciting, I thought to myself as some of my men grew bored and started talking amongst one another.

Suddenly, a horn blasted two-times and the man beside me, a member of the group from the Wild West, twisted in his saddle to look at me, "There's been contact."

"Contact?" I asked stupidly.

"It means that there's direct contact, er, swordplay now. The armies have merged and are currently fighting. The battle has begun."

"Then we wait." I whispered, turning back to look at the forest ahead.

There was silence for a minute, except for the occasional scream of a creature at battle nearby or the cry of someone as they were struck down – causing me to clench each time at the thought that it might be Edmund – but we waited, helpless to do anything, but follow orders.

"There!" Someone in the back suddenly screamed out, pointing widely at the patch of his woods.

I squinted to look at what he was pointing at, but saw nothing. Suddenly, there was movement amongst the trees, just a little at first, but suddenly growing bigger. I turned back to look at the archers, who nodded at me, yelling, "Get ready!"

Suddenly, racing across the field, having emerged from the woods, were two tigers, their paws pounding powerfully against the ground as they raced toward us. The archers shot, taking one down by the flank, the other missing. The tiger was close, a lot closer than I was comfortable with, and the archer lined up again. My horse pranced uneasily as the tiger approached it, only to die and fall at his hooves.

"There's more of em!" A beaver suddenly exclaimed, his tiny chainmail clinking loudly as he moved to climb down the stone wall.

An ogre, two giants, a jackal, three satyrs and what looked to be a gryphon emerged from the woods. Archers would not be able to take every single one out, especially not a giant or ogre. I realized what I must do, turning to face the fidgeting men behind me, unsheathing my sword and pointing forward, "Charge!"

We tore after them, a battle in a battle to see who could meet the opponent first. My first contact, ever, my first battle, was with the ogre, who came racing down the plain, his large feet leaving indents in the ground, towards me. He grabbed my horses front leg, his powerful arm slinging the horse aside, me along with it, as he moved on to his next enemy. I lay on the ground, trying to force the air back into my lungs and searching for my horse, who I found laying half-broken a little ways away from me, when an incubi let out a horrible scream, swooping in to attack. I covered my face with my arms, the rough talons of the incubi sinking into my flesh. I pulled one arm away, the talons still dug into my other arm, and with one tug of my injured arm (causing the incubi to be pulled closer to me) I rammed my metal fist into the beak of the animal, sending it flying backwards.

I stood up, reaching for my sword which lay only a few yards away, and scrutinizing the battle in front of me. More of the enemy had approached, man and creature, and the plain was now filled with the clashing armies.

I continued to fight, slashing down numerous creatures, men, whatever came my way. My swordsmanship, while inexperienced at first, was slowly improving. That was until, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a horse galloping towards me, the whites of his eyes showing as he tried to escape the creature behind him. He was just a poor dumb horse, why would a creature be chasing him? I cut down the creature as he passed, the horse immediately realizing this and rearing in his spot, kicking his front hooves into the air. I approached him, grabbing his reins and trying to soothe him, all the while tightening the strap of his saddle and swinging up on him.

I knew I had orders, but I could not handle the stress of not knowing about Edmund, and so I kicked my heels into the horse, pushing him to a gallop. I cut multiple creatures down, some in-half, on our way across the field and into the forest. Up ahead, I knew there was a cliff and so I slowed my horse to a canter, cutting down yet another creature. I pulled up along the side of the cliff, scanning the scene below.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of creatures were at war below. It was difficult to tell which army was which, but I knew, no matter what, we were outnumbered. I could already see parts of the field where blood had stained it red. I searched desperately for Edmund, though I could not find him anywhere, that was until I saw a black horse with a black rider galloping towards the bottom of the cliff and disappearing from my view. I knew it was him and I knew he was safe.

I breathed a sigh of relief, only to see my world spin, and for what seemed like the millionth time, and me falling. I remembered fully the cliff and reached a hand out to grip the edge of it, missing. My armor scraped against the rock as I fell, though I did not feel it, and at one point, my cheek was scraped open. I clutched at everything I could, desperately trying to find some sort of ledge to grab, but I could find nothing. Finally, my hand met with a ledge and gripping it, I brought myself crashing into the side at a sudden halt.

Everything hurt and darkness was creeping into my vision as I noticed my horse lying at the bottom of the cliff, dead. I looked up, a dumb giant glaring down the cliff at me, cocking his head and studying me with empty eyes. I groaned, pulling myself up on the ledge, resting on my knees and watching the giant above. I rested my head against the rock, squeezing my eyes shut and praying the pain would leave, but it did not.

Suddenly, a rock fell to the ground beside me, then another, and another, until finally I looked up to see the cause and to my astonishment, the giant was now making its way down to me, jumping from ledge to ledge, breaking pieces off at a time. I could only stare helplessly, my sword lying at the bottom of the cliff with my horse. The giant was only one ledge away now and I knew it was over. I could either die by the giant or die by jumping to the next ledge, which was on the other side, out of my reach, or die by jumping to the ground, another hundred feet away.

I resorted myself to death, bowing my head and wishing I had gone in a more noble way.

"Peter!"

I glanced up at the sound of my name, catching a glimpse of Edmund at the top of the cliff, his frantic face searching for a way to save me. He disappeared once again out of my view, only for a second, before he came flying over the edge, a dagger in his hand. I screamed, wondering what the hell he was doing, but my question was answered as he landed on the back of the giant, pushing the dagger into the top of his skull with an unbelievable amount of force. The giant yelped, not looking at where it was jumping next and missed the ledge, now in free fall to the ground, along with my Edmund. Edmund, pushing off the giant's skull with his feet, leapt to the nearest wall he could find, driving his dagger into the rock wall, bringing he too, like me, to a crashing and painful stop. He groaned, ignoring the loud thud of the dead giant hitting the ground, and instead focused on his grip.

"That was bloody awful," He said casually.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" I put emphasis on each word, dragging out to express my anger, just so he would get it for once.

"Well," he reached one hand down to his belt, pulling out another dagger, and proceeded to climb the wall, grunting the whole way, "I think I was saving your butt."

I frowned, "I had it sorted."

He was near my ledge now, his arm swinging over the ledge and his eyes squinting up at mine, "Did you now? Would you mind helping a poor chap out?"

I yanked his body onto the ledge, more roughly than I meant to be, but oh well. He stood up, realizing just how nice of a ledge I had picked to fall on, and dusted himself off. "Well then."

"You're unbelievable." I muttered.

"No, I'm punctual." He scanned the cliff for a way down or up, before pulling his twin daggers out again, "Well, since you seem to be doing nothing helpful, I'm gonna get us out of here."

I stared at him with a bored expression, watching as he made his way quickly – and impressively, though I would never say that – up the cliff and after only a few minutes, he reached the top. He called out for me to move out of the way and then tossed his daggers onto the ledge, disappearing again. I sighed, following his way of getting up the cliff, though it took me quite a bit longer, some spots being harder to break with a dagger than others. Finally, he helped me over the cliff, standing to his feet and again, as I had noticed him doing often, brushing himself off.

We had barely time to speak before Orieus came cantering up to us, two men riding on horses beside him, reigning in just in front of us, the horses prancing uneasily in their spot. Orieus bent down, his metal armor harsh against his tan skin, "King Edmund, General Peter, we have located the enemies' base."

"Excellent, take us there." Edmund said enthusiastically, the men swinging down from their horses and handing the reins to Edmund and I. Edmund motioned for me to swing up onto the horse and I followed orders.

Orieus thanked the men, leaving them by the cliff, and cantering west to take us around the fight below. We stayed to the back trails, out of the enemies' view, our pace constant. The trees and rocky cliffs soon gave away to mud and gravel, a barren wasteland, the edge of Narnia's border. I was familiar with the place, when I had been brought here, I had to camp several nights in this vast wasteland before arriving at the camp. Orieus slowed to a trot, approaching the army in the distance, the Lone Islanders who were attacking the opposing enemy from behind.

A much younger centaur cantered up to Orieus, bowing his head with respect and listening for orders. Orieus motioned to us, "Take them to their base," and turned back to us, "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but I must stay here."

Edmund nodded, "Thank you, Orieus. You are a good friend."

"You as well, my liege." He turned and cantered to the front of the group, leaving us with the younger centaur, who wordlessly gestured for us to follow him.

The base was not far away and was unimpressive in most ways. It was merely an abandoned, run-down fort, with a lone naked tree outside its entrance, three dumb horses tied to the branches. The centaur gestured to the top floor, still silent, before turning and galloping away. I looked towards Edmund and soon felt that silence was necessary for these kind of situations. Edmund swallowed, his eyes unreadable as he pushed the horse into a gallop, past the entrance with me on his heels and up the winding staircase. The hooves were loud against the stone and somewhere in the distance there was a fearsome roar, but neither of us paid any attention to it. When we had finally reached the top of the stairs, on the top level, Edmund swung down from the horse, not waiting or hesitating, but pushing upon the splintering double doors.

We had only taken three steps inside when a guard I had mistaken as a suit of armor attacked us. The bigger one went for me, swinging his war hammer over the top of his head and bringing it crashing down a few inches from my shoulder. Edmund struggled against the guards, trying to the best of his ability to pass them and reach the guards and end this war. I kicked the chest of the heavier man, driving my sword into his throat and moving my eyes to catch Edmund's, "Go! I'll handle them."

For a minute, Edmund was hesitant, but he trusted me. He always had and with a nod, he took off down the hallway, leaving the guards and I alone.

3rd Person POV

Edmund's life had never been easy, smooth, uncomplicated. No, for some reason, Edmund had always been forced to walk the darker, tainted path with his head cast down, stumbling over objects that he hadn't known were there. Obstacles, Aslan had called them while they sat on the grassy hill the day after the battle, are necessary. Edmund believed that, he just didn't know why he had to have so many of them. It came down to that, after all, Edmund's doubt in Aslan. He didn't know why Aslan had chose for him to be the one with the obstacles, or the one destined to live the complicated life. Above all, he didn't know why Aslan had let these things happen to him.

His hand was resting on the door to the room which held the ambassadors, chiefs, all the leaders in the army. There was something, some kind of gut feeling, which held him back from just rushing into the room, but he couldn't place his finger on it. Years of wisdom had taught him not to question his gut feeling, but to follow it. But lately, just like his faith in Aslan, his faith in his decisions and wisdom had been shaken and with that, he opened the door, stepping into the room.

There were four beings sitting around a wooden table, drinking from a glass of cheap wine and laughing heartily about something. One of the two humans, an Archenlander by the looks of it, turned to face him, smiling at Edmund's face.

"We have company, gentleman."

They all stood to their feet, but one particular being, a black minatour, caught his attention. From the looks of it, Edmund had caught his attention as well. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the Winter Prince."

Edmund winced visibly at the White Witch's nickname for him. "Edmund. King Edmund."

The minatour waved him off, the rest of the men returning to their positions in their seats, "King, Prince, all the same. My, have you grown. The Queen would be proud of your development. What? Do I make you uncomfortable? Am I bringing up some kind of past you've been trying to shove away for years?"

Edmund raised his sword toward the minatour as he approached, taking a step back, "I won't hesitate to run you through."

"Oh, I know you won't. A man that can kill his brother without thinking can certainly kill an acquaintance without blinking." He paused in front of the king, a smile twisting on his snout. He knew just how to play Edmund's weaknesses, he always had, "Don't you remember, _King_ Edmund?"

_He stared in shock at his pale hand, now stained with blood similar to the blood that coursed through his own veins. His older sister wears a similar expression, cradling the head of their too-young sister, angry tears falling from her green eyes as she rasped out angry curse words, all aimed for her younger brother who was left in the middle of a field of dying flesh, completely alone. _

_Edmund dropped to his knees beside his blonde haired brother, the crystal blue eyes focused on something past Edmund, something in the arms of Susan. He reaches a shaky, red hand to his brother's forehead, pushing away a blonde strand that had fallen over his eyes. The blue eyes snapped to his younger brother and Edmund could see where his eyes had begun to fog over, extinguishing the fire in him. _

"_I'm sorry." He knows it's not enough. He knows it's not even close, but he's not sure what else there is to say. He repeats himself again and again, finds himself rocking back and forth, muttering the words over and over again, like one of the broken records his dad had kept back in England. He thinks his father would be disappointed. He thinks he would hate him._

_John's eyes are grey, blinking only every minute or two as he struggles to gasp for breath. Edmund reaches over and takes John's still warm hand in his own, "John," he wants to say he loves him and that he's the best brother he could ever ask for, but the light is gone from John's eyes and Edmund knows it is too late. _

_Edmund doesn't cry; he thinks he's forgotten how. He is all anger, and without thinking, he is running towards the Witch who had left Susan to cry over her dead sister, knowing full well that the prophecy was useless with two. _

From his belt, the minatour revealed a wand, with a jagged end where a sword had broken it in half. The Witch's Wand. He stares in shock at the broken item, glaring up at the minatour, who just smiles back at him with a look of bloodlust.

Edmund remembers the brilliant blue light, the sharp pain that had erupted in his abdomen as he fell on the field, gasping out in pain. He remembers everything.

Remembering is enough to push the young king over the edge.

Peter's POV

As I finally and successfully cut down the last of the guards, my mind immediately went to Edmund. Had he been successful, was the war over? I didn't take long to think, but instead sprinted down the hallway toward the room Edmund had disappeared into several minutes ago.

Upon entering, I gasped. There on the ground, covered in blood, were several creatures and men and in a chair at the far left of the room, sat Edmund. His face was emotionless and he stared forward without blinking, his fingers wrapped around a shattered wand, stained with blood. He looked up at me as I approached him, yet did not move. I tried in vain to remove the wand from his hand in order to wipe the others' blood from it, but he did not give it. I made a move to pull him to his feet and only when my finger brushed across his stomach, warm dampness against the cloth, did I realize it was Edmund's blood on the wand.

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	16. Future in the End

_I believe I'm falling apart again  
Can't believe it's all my fault, and when  
I fall; then you follow me in  
I can see the future in the end  
Can't believe it's finally come to this_

_-The Future in the End_

**A/N: Sooooo...yeah. I'm alive. It's been like a year I think? My bad 0_0. I'm in college now, and we all know how time consuming that is. I'll try and be better, but no promises. Please review :) Love you ALLL 3**_  
_

* * *

His knees buckled and he came crashing down against my side, grasping widely at my arm for some sort of purchase. I wrapped an arm around his side, clumsily, without even thinking, and he let out a miserable scream as my arm came into contact with the seeping wound. Muttering meaningless apologies, I lowered him to the ground and pressed my hand against the flow of blood. I ripped his shirt open, frantically searching his body for any other injuries. Then my eyes found the wound and it was like everything froze and I was stuck, trapped, staring at the love of my life, at the color draining from his face and the blood that now stained my hands. I was helpless, powerless, to do anything for him.

I had never realized before, at least not in the dark light of his bedroom, how many scars covered his back and torso, how many of them were rugged, raised, painful looking. I now saw them, noting each one's design and pattern, each painful in its own way. There was a jagged line down the side of his ribcage, a puckered scar near his left shoulder running to his bicep, the makings of a word (I assumed "Traitor") carved into his hip, tiny scars - each with their own story - covered the remainder, but none was more frightening than the scar on his lower stomach. I had noticed it before, long ago, but something had happened to it. There was a wound, obviously from being stabbed, that had scarred over, and yet, angry spider-like veins emerged from it, coiling away from it and towards his chest. Yes, I had noticed it before, but now there was a new stab wound, just above the previous one and new, very dark and frightening lines came from it, merging with the other lines. Together, they inched towards his heart, the black lines prominent and angry.

His chest heaved, his damp, dark hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes wide. He was pale, too pale, and I couldn't bring my eyes away from the disturbing pattern on his stomach. I yanked my shirt off and pressed it clumsily to the wound, applying pressure and trying to stay calm. I met his eyes, watched as they looked at me in fear, in guilt, and yet I felt only anger, hurt. I pointed to his stomach, "What the hell is this? Why didn't you tell me? How long has it been like this?"

He leaned his head back, closing his eyes, "The wand…I didn't figure it was anything to…anything to be concerned about."

I looked at him in disbelief, though his eyes remained closed. My voice was frantic now, disbelieving, "How is this not concerning!?"

"I'm sorry….I didn't think I would….get stabbed," he took a sharp inhale of air, his face draining of color, "in the exact same place…with the exact same wand…I mean the chances of that….have to be like one in a million, right?"

In that moment, I saw a life without Edmund. A life full of pain, void of life, void of light. There was nothing without him and I knew if he died here tonight, I would die with him. I could not be without him, not now, not again. I pulled him to his feet, after having tied my shirt around his waist, careful to keep an arm there to apply pressure. We moved slowly towards the door, his breath ragged. I could tell he was losing a lot of blood and as a result, losing consciousness. I pressed my mouth to the shell of his ear, whispering words such as, "I love you", "Don't give up", "Almost there", "Keep going", only to find they had no affect on Edmund. His eyes remained barely open as he leaned against my body, his forehead damp with sweat, and his body trembling. I knew at this time I could not act afraid, but I was. I was terrified. Because that life I had envisioned just moments ago, I didn't want it. I wanted nothing to do with that life.

Clutching him to my side, I moved through the hallways quickly, keeping my eyes peeled for any potential stray enemies. I could feel his breath quickening, and his heart slowing. He was dying, I knew that and it scared me half to death. The King of Narnia could not die on my watch, but more importantly Edmund could not die on my watch. Finally, we made it to the double doors, and I shoved them open, breaking into the cloudy air and the too-dull light. I peered around, concerned where all this dust was coming from. Realizing I had no time to figure it out, I began down the ramp.

"Peter…"

I paused, looking down at him. His skin was slick with sweat, just as had it been when he had laid beneath me, but it was different this time, it was so very different. Right now, he wasn't my king, he wasn't anyone's king. He was Edmund, laid bare open, vulnerable, fragile, and clutching to the final threads of his life.

"I can't…" His eyes closed briefly and my heart stopped, "…go. Please."

"I'm not leaving without you. We'll take a break, but then I got to get you back to the camp, okay? They'll take care of you, and," I leaned him against the rubble of what used to be a stone wall, pushing the hair out of his eyes, "and it'll be okay. It'll be okay."

He smiled, "You…always have been…so brave, Peter."

I ignored him, instead pulling away at his shirt to check his wound. My heart sunk at the sight, the veins had become worse, more visible and more poisonous. I tried to calm my breathing, tried to act like it wasn't that bad, but it was.

Then there was a roar, a powerful one unlike any other. My hands froze in their work, and I raised my eyes to the sky then back to Edmund, "what was that?"

Edmund looked up at the darkening sky, "It can't be."

"What?"

"Dragon."

"Dragon?" Another roar answered my question and I froze. I looked back frantically at Edmund, whose eyes were closed (but still breathing), and grabbed his hand, trying to shake him awake, "Edmund, stay with me. What do I do?"

His eyes opened to small slits and he stared at me with the little strength he had left, "Peter…you can't…. too strong," he reached for his waist, clutching at his sword, "take this…and leave. I…won't let you…. get hurt."

I didn't consider it, not even for a second. Instead, I just turned my eyes back to the sky and watched as the deadly creature swooped in from the sky, his golden eyes set on us. He let out another roar, pulling his wings in and going into a dive. I grabbed Edmund by his elbow, yanking him up to his feet and swinging his arm around my shoulder. Moving as fast as I possibly could, I stumbled back up the ramp towards shelter once more. Edmund was struggling, barely breathing at all and this alone worried me, but I had no time to stop and think about it. I glanced back up into the dusty air, biting back an embarrassing scream as the dragon let out a large rush of fire, charring the stone in front of me and throwing me back. I lost my footing on the downward slope, dropping Edmund and landing on my back. I let out a groan, my head pounding from where I had hit it on the ground, my vision a little fuzzy. I could make out the dragon lifting back up into the air, just to do another dive, and I knew that this time, we would not escape him fast enough to run away.

Honestly, if it weren't for Edmund, I would have just laid my head back and given up, but I couldn't. I had to save Edmund.

"Peter!"

I heard her voice, followed by a painful cry from the dragon above, before I actually saw her. I looked back, propping myself up on my elbows, dizzy, to see her on the back of a chestnut horse, her bow and arrow pointed towards the sky. She was wearing armor, elaborately done, with her hair braided and hung over the side of her shoulder. She looked down at me, kicking the horse into action and riding up to me. She swung down from the horse, dropping to her knees to grab my shoulders, "Peter, we don't have time. I just grazed him, he'll be coming back."

I nodded, clearing my head a little, before I remembered (how could I forget?) Edmund, who laid several feet away from us. I scrambled to my feet, rushing over to Edmund and pressing my hand against his neck. He was still alive, barely, but still alive. Susan was beside me in a second, "What happen to him? Peter, what the hell? We need to get him back to the camp now."

"I know. I know."

"Take the horse and get him back to camp. Now."

I looked up at her, recognizing the bravery that I had so often seen in Edmund. "And what about you?"

"I'll stay here."

"To be killed by the dragon?"

"I stand a better chance of surviving out of us." She helped Edmund to his feet, "Go. Now."

"If I let you die, Edmund will never forgive me."

"If you don't leave now, Edmund won't be around to even blame you in the first place. Please," She looked back towards the sky, towards the dragon who was coming back, and then back to me, her eyes filled with tears, "please save my brother," She reached down to press her forehead against Edmund's, who was now completely unconscious (filling me with panic), "Please hang in there, Edmund. I love you. I love you so much. Just please don't leave me."

Edmund's hand, to our surprise, came up to grip the one she had laid on his chest, squeezing it. He let out a whisper, "I won't."

She let out a choked sob, standing to her feet and facing away from us. She readied her bow, facing the sky, "Go."

I nodded, pulling him to his feet and towards the horse. I managed to prop him up in front of me, taking the reins in my hand and steering him away, down the ramp. Pushing him to a gallop, I risked a look back, to the lone woman who stood, in battle form, weapon ready, facing the deadliest creature of all and prayed. I prayed that Aslan would make an appearance, not for me, but for Edmund and for Susan.

The camp wasn't far, but every minute passed painfully slow as each breath of Edmund's became slower and slower. I reached camp within a few minutes, stopping just outside the tent and jumping to the ground. I lifted Edmund off, bridal-style, and allowed myself to be ushered into the healer's tent.

"Lay him on the table." I heard a female voice say. I did as she said. She was shouting to someone else, telling them to get her something, but I couldn't understand it. Everything sounded as if it was underwater. I didn't know what was happening. Everything was blurry, was I crying? I didn't know.

Then there was a hand on my arm, and a young girl was looking at me with sad, innocent eyes, "Sir, we need you to leave."

I think I said no, but I didn't hear my own voice. She was pulling at me, shoving me towards the entrance. "Please leave." I was fighting her, I didn't know what else to do. I could only see Edmund, his pale face, his dark eyes that were barely open, (and to my dismay, slowly graying) but focused on me. And then I was thrust into the light, the flap of the tent closing behind me.

I didn't know what to do. I felt completely helpless. The camp was surrounded by the wounded, by young females rushing around grabbing different things to bring to the healers, by servants that were placing the armor on the reinforcement soldiers. I knew I needed to do something. Edmund had made me general after all. I tried to stop the overwhelming need to be by Edmund's side, but it hung there in the air.

What would Edmund do? If I was the one in the tent instead?

I knew exactly what he would do. He would realize the war is more important. He would fight. That's what I must do.

I headed over to the reinforcements; there were only five of them. "You and you," I pointed to the youngest looking ones, "go and get us six horses. The rest of you, finish putting on your armor and gather your weapons-"

"Who are you to give my men orders?" The oldest one snipped, glaring at me. His face was tired and covered in dirt. A cut ran down the side of his cheek and dried blood was caked to his skin. "I am the captain of this group."

"I am Master General Peter." I said simply, as the two men then took off to gather the horses, "We are going to find Queen Susan."

"Where is she?" The now-embarrassed man questioned.

I looked towards the sky to see maybe if I could see the great dragon circling there, but saw nothing. "I don't know. Last place I saw her was the Free Narnian's base."

"Let's go then."

"Any of you know how to kill a dragon?"

Their faces told me 'no'.

* * *

When we arrived at the base of the ramp, I was able to see the dragon, perched on the very top of the tower, his eyes glaring down at the ground below him – a hunter stalking his prey. He hadn't left, so his prey - Susan - had to be alive. I motioned for the men behind me to stop, careful for the dragon not to see us. I turned back to my mind, "We go straight for those doors, you hear me? When we get inside, we'll be safe."

The men nodded and I gave the signal to move forward. The horses burst into a full gallop, running up the ramp towards the broken down doors. The dragon noticed us, letting out a scream and pushed off of the building, into the sky, just to pull his wings into a dive. He let out a stream of fire, engulfing the man in the back in flames. My heart sunk, but none of us paused. We were inside the building in no time, but one man down.

I immediately dismounted, hollering out orders, "Spread out. Search the building for the queen. No one is to go outside."

"Except me," I whispered under my breath.

I was careful to use the rubble of the building as my cover, always staying out of view of the sky. I had managed to creep outside and around the left side of the building, staying low to the ground and hugging the wall at all times. Inside, I heard a window break and the dragon's roar. The dragon was attempting to break into the building. He knew his newfound prey was in there. I was torn, between going to help my men or finding Susan. I chose the second one.

After a few minutes of creeping around the building, I began to move more frantically. Parts of the building were beginning to crumble from the weight of the dragon's claw as he desperately tried to tear down the wall. I was almost tempted to go back, help out my men, when I heard a whisper.

I whipped my head around to the side to see Susan, huddled under a piece of rubble that had fallen off the building and was now resting against the wall, making a small tent of stone. I glanced towards where I heard the dragon moving before I sprinted towards her, dropping down at the last second to slide under the stone.

Susan's arms were immediately around me. "Thank Aslan, you're okay."

I pulled back, examining her from head to toe, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Just burned a little. And tired." She gave a small smile, before frowning, "I couldn't defeat him. I thought if I hid, he would give up and leave. I should have known better. Dragons are relentless in their pursuit."

"I'm here now. We can defeat him." I assured her, though my gut feeling told me I was wrong.

As if on cue, the great dragon circled around the building, his shadow falling over our shelter as he flew overhead. He was angry, and I could feel my legs turn to water as I watched in terror. I managed to move Susan inside without him noticing, but the sight that laid before me caused a horrible sinking feeling in my stomach. The window on the far right of the hallway was blown out, and the room was charred, blackened, by the fire. A chair was still burning in the corner. And there, just below the window sill was a blackened, mangled body, barely recognizable as human, forever distorted by the fire. And a few feet away from him, frozen crawling away from the window, was a less mangled, but still charred body.

Three men down. Only two left. Did we even stand a chance?

The other two men were kneeling in the opposite corner, immediate relief flooding through their bodies as they saw Susan and I making our way towards them. I, however, didn't manage to make it to them. No. The roof crumbled, falling in between us, separating us and throwing us back.

For the second time that day, I hit my head. Again, things turned fuzzy and I don't know how much time passed, but when I opened my eyes, Susan was back into battle mode. I watched her for a second, time was passing in a strange way, as if it weren't passing at all. I saw in her the same born warrior as her brother. She wasn't fearless, she wasn't hesitant, she was everything a warrior was supposed to be. She stood in the same way her brother did, facing battle, not running from it - the only difference was the swords had been replaced with arrows.

Suddenly a hand gripped my bicep, yanking me to my feet and holding me there while I struggled to keep my balance. The two soldiers had managed to find a way around the rubble and were now standing behind Susan, while the dragon above spewed hell down on us.

"Okay," Susan said in what seemed like a whisper, barely audible above the roars and the rushing wind, the smoke and the rolling flmaes. "We need to separate. He can't attack all of us at once. If we can get him on the ground, he loses his advantage in the sky," Her lips were dry in the heat.

One of the soldiers, the bravest of us all, took off, climbing the pile of rubble that laid in the middle of the hallway. He screamed at the dragon, waving his hands around frantically. The dragon twisted its head, seeming to pause for only a second before it folded its wings into its body, placing a claw on the inside of the building and somehow half – crawling, half – falling down the wall into the building. He landed heavily, the stone giving away beneath his heavy body. He barely fit into the room and it was strangely frightening sight to see honestly.

He let out a terrible scream before bending his neck, catching the soldier who, at the last second, had turned on his heels to run, in his jaw and snapping his back. Susan released in arrow, striking him in the neck. He tossed the dead body of the soldier to the side, turning to face us.

He bent down, his long neck reaching out to us, his wings lifting away from his body, smashing windows on both sides of the room, as he let out an outraged cry. Susan took this opportunity to release another arrow, embedding it in his snout now. The pained cry was followed by large tunnel of fire. I saw his vision focus on Susan and how he inhaled, readying to spew fire again. I saw he was going to kill her. And I couldn't let that happen. I would not let that happen.

I unsheathed my sword, moving away from the last remaining soldier, and with all the strength I could muster, I threw the sword at the dragon. In slow motion, I could only watch as the sword hit the dragon's back, the strongest point of his armor, and bounced off. I watched as he turned his head towards me, his eyes golden and vicious. I threw my hands over my face as the fire came at me like all of Hell was in one place, and I no longer had to wonder what it felt like.

I was burning, my entire skin was on fire. I couldn't lift my hand far enough to tear the skin off of me. I could only lay there, convulsing, burning. My vision was clouded. I could barely make out the outline of Susan and the soldier as they bravely tried to take down the dragon.

Blackness was seeping into my vision and I welcomed it. I was in so much pain. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to cry, but every tear was burned up in the fire that overtook my body. I could see the end of my nose, it was black and pieces of skin were peeling off. My entire body was turning to char, to ash. My vision swam as I tried to angle my head to look down at my legs. Black. My entire leg was black, blistered, oozing blood. I laid my head back against the wall I had been thrown back against. I wanted to scream, so badly, but my throat was on fire. I felt trapped within my own body, within my own hell.

Then suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace when a soft thud sounded near me. The pain was still there, but it was lessened. I blinked, just long enough to look at the ground on my right.

A paw, the size of my head. A lion's paw.

I lifted my eyes. It was a lion, of massive size. His mane was blindingly gold, even in the cloudy air. He looked down at me, his golden eyes meeting mine. I felt peace and fear, love and hate, every emotion all at once, and I let out a choked cry. _Aslan. _

He nodded once to me, and then shifted his focus back to the scene in front of him. The beast had noticed him, turning his attention away from Susan and letting out a threatening growl.

The roar that emerged from Aslan was unlike anything I had ever heard before. It sent a chill down my spine and fear straight in my heart. Behind his roar was power, the power to create and destroy, the power to send fear into even the bravest of foes.

What I saw, I can't really explain. My vision was still blurred and I could only attempt to make sense of what had just happened. The dragon let out a choking sound, lifting its neck to gaze at the sky and trembling, before combusting, swallowed in its own fire.

Then there was silence.

Aslan turned back to me, his eyes remaining on me the entire time, even when he spoke my sister's name. I heard the footsteps before I saw her and part of me panicked as to why she was here. She was kneeling next to me in a second, and I could hear her crying. Her hand reached to touch my face, but I winced, and she yanked it away. She looked over to Aslan, her voice sounding so small, "Aslan, please help him!"

Aslan only nodded, "Use the gift you have been given, Lucy."

From her belt, she pulled a small bottle of red liquid. She stared at it in her before uncorking the top. She held it above my mouth, tilting it slightly, and with a whispered "I love you", let a drop slide into my mouth. At first, it did nothing to stop the burning, but slowly, as I swallowed, the liquid spread through my veins. I could feel my skin healing, the worst of the blisters turning to scars. I could feel my hair re-growing, where it had once been burnt off. Within a few minutes, I could feel the life returning to me and my vision clearing.

As soon I was strong enough, I yanked my little sister into a hug, letting out a joyous laugh.

"Aslan, you're here." I heard Susan whisper.

"I will always deliver you, child."

That is when I remembered who I was in the presence of. I immediately pushed myself onto my knees, my legs jelly, unable to stand in front of the greatest king to ever live.

"Rise, Peter."

His voice sent trembles down my spine and I could barely lift myself to my feet long enough to look at him. "A-Aslan."

"You have done well, my son. An entire army has been defeated because of what you have done."

Susan cut me off, "Aslan, if you are here, does that mean that the war is over?"

"Yes," I couldn't help but break out smiling when I heard his answer. We had actually won. "There is much to celebrate," what he said next ripped the smile off my face, "but there is also much to grieve."

Susan was quiet for a second, before she turned to me frantically, "Peter, what happen to Edmund?"

Reality came crashing down me. Why hadn't I stayed with him? Why had I left him? Did he blame me for leaving him? How could I have done that to him?

* * *

The ride back to camp seemed to pass painstakingly slow in the silence. When we arrived, Lucy stayed outside with Aslan, while both Susan and I rushed towards the tent. The healer, who sat just outside the tent on a wooden stool, stood immediately, holding her hand out to stop us.

Susan stopped, stunned, "Let me through."

"Your Majesty-"

Susan's voice became dangerously low, her voice dripping with venom, "Let. Me. Through." Gone was the gentle queen, in her place, stood the protective, heartbroken sister of the King of Narnia.

Nevertheless, the healer allowed us into the tent.

Inside the tent, all light was shut off. I squinted my eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness that surrounded me. I could barely make out the shapes around me, but from what I gathered, there were two soldiers on the first two tables. Both were bandaged up and appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

In the very rear end of the tent, there was a table. On the table was a long, crisp white sheet covering the length of a body, head to toe. My heart stopped. Susan gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She approached the table, slowly pulling the sheet down, allowing it to slip off of the pale face beneath it.

Pale skin, white as snow. Pale lips, colorless. Dark hair, clashing wildly with white. Colorless cheeks. Eyelids closed to cover the lifeless once strikingly brown, now gray eyes.

Edmund.

Dead.

Susan's face was immediately buried in my chest, gripping at my armor. My arms were frozen at my side. I didn't move to hug her. I didn't move at all. I was frozen. Frozen in a nightmare that all too well was starting to look like reality.

"Your Majesty, we tried. We couldn't stop it. We didn't know what it was, those lines, we just knew it was killing him. We didn't know what to do. We tried, we just…there was too much blood. He couldn't fight whatever it was," She paused, reaching down to pull the blanket even farther down to reveal his chest. The lines that had branched up from the wound were black and raised off his skin, looking more like veins than anything else. As they reached towards his heart, they lost the dark tint, fading to gray. The lines a few inches from his heart were bright white, whiter than his skin, and looked ready to burst from his skin. Susan still didn't look, "He died before we could figure out to stop it. I'm sorry, Your Majesty. Truly, I am."

Susan just turned towards the table, motioning for the healer to leave, which she did. Slowly, she reached out one finger to touch his cheek. Her finger made contact with his cheek, just brushing the skin, and she broke into uncontrollable sobs. A raw scream broke through her throat, "You promised me, Edmund! You promised you'd stay with me! How could you leave me here! You can't leave me here! Please, I can't lose you too. Don't do this to me, Edmund. I'm begging you. Please. Please. You promised me. Edmund, please wake up," her pleading turned to whispers, "please. Please. Wake up. You're not dead. You can't be. I can't do this on my own. Please come back to me. You promised. You promised."

I blinked, realizing a few tears were rolling down my cheek despite how numb I felt. In my mind, I was angry. I was angry with him, I was angry with myself. Because honestly, this was my fault. He wouldn't even be here if it weren't for me. I felt cheated. How could he taken from me just when I got him back?

Susan was back to hugging me, sobbing uncontrollably. From somewhere behind me, I heard Lucy enter the tent, echoing Susan's earlier gasp. I pushed past Susan, reaching Edmund. I placed one hand under his neck, using the other to brush the bangs away from his face. I knew I was crying by now, dropping my head to let the tears fall to the floor. I inhaled deeply, reaching to press my forehead on his and letting my tears roll off onto his lifeless cheeks. I so desperately needed this to be a dream. For it to be some kind of joke.

With my forehead pressed to his, I whispered, "You heard your sister. You promised her. We need you to wake up, okay? We need you to come back. Narnia needs you. Susan, yeah, she needs you too…I…I need you. You have no idea how much I need you, Edmund. I can't…I can't lose you. So please, just wake up. Please. I love you. I love you so much."

I opened my eyes, yet his remained closed. He wasn't waking up. He wasn't going to.

The King of Narnia was dead.

* * *

**A/N: REVIEW :) and I promise this isn't the end! I promise!**


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